Civis Aquilae, Ashurn of the Cohorts
by Annoying POW marine
Summary: 3rd person self insert pseudo Gamer. Ashurn wakes as wayward member of the imperialistic Aquilian Cohorts. Stuck in the Vale, he must train at Beacon Academy to learn the ways of war, to become a Legionary. The Aquilians hold almost the same powers as the human kingdoms, as an empire fueled by slavery. Power, wealth, and every indulgence could be his. Would he? And who pays for it?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY or any publicly recognizable properties nor do I make money from this. Seriously does anyone on this site own anything?

AN: So I've been tossing this self-insert idea around for a while and well I needed to put it to text and see if it sticks. As always please leave criticisms, say it sucks if you want, so long as you present a way for me to improve. Don't worry I'm made of stern stuff.

Sentence

"Talk"

'Thought'

*Sound*

-Place-

 **Z Electronic voice Z**

 **Document/Text**

" **Every night I rest, I die. Every dawn I am renewed, reborn. Every morning a new sun greets us and our new life begins."**

-Unknown-

"For the world before us is fleeting. Shadows spread, swallowing even as eagle's wings spread and soars. Cast darkness, we do as the sun rises at our backs, Unbent to heavens authority and eyes fixed to inevitable end of harmony. With birth of disparity, the vigilant shall mount the earth, and reave from it their own. We perch upon mountains flowing with milk and honey, marauding plenty for those we cherish."

-Home, Bedroom-

Today was a day like any other. Nobody ever says that anymore but everyone knows the feeling. That feeling of what to expect from waking, that realization that you need to get off your ass and do something with yourself. For an instant, reality comes crashing down on your shoulders, shattering the bliss that is cotton fabric. Though sometimes, when you feel it in yourself something was way off. Well if you are still yourself.

The blanket shift as the person underneath reveled in the soft sensation of cotton against his skin. With every motion, only relief saturated him more. The buzzing AC bellowed out gushes of soothing winter. Like an unearthed giant at rest for millennium, he felt his bones adjust to one another as joints worked the night's debris. "Ugggugh my back…"

He knew these sensations for over a decade, every year, every month, every week, and almost every day: day by day started like this. But today was off, he felt it in the subtle shift of light from the window and touch of air on his skin, even his own skin felt off. His back in particular was very numb. It didn't feel right like wearing a full body suit he wasn't use to. There was no time to ponder this, His morning mood could be best summarized as "UUGH…why? Why does it hurt so much?." he expelled.

He lived in this house for over 10 years, he knew every subtle noise it made as old houses tend to do. Again his sleep lagged senses told him something was off. His skin felt like it didn't quite fit, his back was unusually heavy and his hair moved, which was fairly unusual for his short haircut. He didn't care and shrugged it off, even when he didn't know what was going on. Maybe he slept with the cover off, making him colder than usual. Maybe he slept in an awkward position, resulting in the odd feeling on his back. Maybe his hair grew faster than he expected. It was far too early to give a fuck. Not quite aware of himself, his form threw the sheets sloppy over and lumbered forward to the hall none the wiser of what was different.

-Home, Bathroom-

From the hall he shifted to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, gargled mouthwash and washed his face on muscle memory alone. He did this almost every day, literally with his eyes closed. Water dripped ever so slightly down his face, only to be swept away with a single wave of the cloth. The alien sensation never left him, even the air felt different than normal. 'Whatever.' He thought. He wasn't a morning person; he never cared about anything before 10 am ever in his life, why should he now. Finally his drowsiness waned and his eyes came online and saw a stranger in the mirror.

"Fuck!" he shrieked, as he slipped backwards and hit his head on the wall on the way down. Bright spots clouded his vision for a minute before clearing up. 'Ugh …ow…' Inhaling to collect himself the guy steadied to his feet, despite the pounding pain at the back of his cranium. Before him was the bathroom mirror. In it held a face he had never seen before. His profile was angular and slim. His chin ended acutely, and his cheek lines rose sharply. His skin was free of any blemish, completely unlike his old. And his eyes were not as he remembered. Like his normal Asian eyes, his were still narrow and angular, but instead of the dark brown he had all his life, they were fiercely gold with bits of emeralds at the edges. They unnerved him, like staring down a wild animal that promised suffering. And oh god his hair! What was a in his opinion a respectable cut of ebony, now spiked backward and, 'Good God!', graduated chocolate brown towards the tips.

All of this was hard enough to take in, but there was still one small detail that just sunk into his brain, especially wasn't able to imprint his back and ass cheeks on the wall.. "Botchy scrotum sack…" he held his hand behind him to grasp a mass of brown feathers or to be precise, the two wings of covered in plumage sticking out of his back. With that his mind went to overdrive panic.

'WHAT THE HELL! WHAT THE HELL! WHAT THE HELL! WHAT THE HELL!' And so on and so on like a skipping record, unable to coop with him entering the twilight zone.

However before he could dwell on what he was seeing any further a noise interrupted his impending mental breakdown.

*BEEP**BEEP*

'A phone ring?' he questioned in his head as the sound filled the immediate air. It was strange since it was so close, albeit a little to the left. He looked down, to his left arm where a screen of light bent along his forearm. 'What in the ten circles of the damnation is that? …' On the screen were two buttons, a green one point up and a red one going the other way. He didn't know why, but he pressed the green one to pick it up. Perhaps his mind was on autopilot, too busy trying to find a rational solution to whatever was going on.

"H-hello?" he unsurely gave to his wrist. Where was he ever supposed to talk into, his veins? And something was off about his voice. He just couldn't tell why.

 **Z Hello? Hello! Oh there you are. Nice of you to pick up. Z** His forearm somehow echoed back. This was just too freaky.

"W-h-who is this?" There it was again. There was a tinge in his voice like-

 **Z Ah the big question. Z** *Rustling of paper* **Z Hello valued Inser- customer, thank you for your patronage and we here at Lore Labs hope you enjoy your new take on life. We, at Lore Labs are dedicated to the fufil-Z**

"I'm sorry but what?" interrupted the confused man.

 **Z Hm? Oh sorry just company formality, We can skip it if you want and get on with the important questions. So which do you want to know first how your UI works or-Z**

Once again the man on the …Forearm pager…phone... thing was interrupted "I'm sorry but what UI? I don't know what's going on. Why do I look like this? Why do I have a Russian accent? Why am I talking to my arm like its normal? Why-" However it was his arm's turn to interrupt him.

 **Z Ah you're one of those cases. Some people can't read contract terms to save their lives. Z**

"Contract? What contract? I hate paper work! I never signed anything." 'And Oh god my voice! I sound so weird talking like a Cold War Pinko.'

 **Z Well you never signed, more like clicked "I Agree". Z**

"Excuse me?"

 **Z Well bud, you don't remember agreeing to "Remnant Hardcore Immersion edition? Or well just any new games?" Z**

'New games? Well just the other day I- oh god.'

-Flashback, Team fortress 2 game, Yesterday-

"PROTECT THE ENGIES! THEY'RE OUR BEST HOPE RIGHT NOW!" He remembered yelling into the microphone. On screen his virtual team holding the battle-line. Normally yelling into game chat was frowned upon, but not here, somehow, he had inspired his entire team into using tactics with motivational yelling.

"Enemy Uber Heavy inbound!" went on of his talking teammates.

"Get a Pyro on 'em! They will not reach beyond this point!" he ordered to a choir of agreement. This was one hell of a game. Normally when you play online, everyone is so pissy. But on occasion you get a random team that responds well to working together especially when you shower them with praise whenever they succeed and show you're interested in keeping them on a winning streak. It was a tad bit much considering it was only a video game, but it sure made it all the more fun.

"VICTORY!" was announced on screen and his entire collective team rejoiced with various victory screeches.

"Damn fine work all of you! Damn fine." His voice inputted. "Well it was an honor leading you but I must go for the New Vegas Wasteland needs me." His team gave him their best goodbyes and gg's, before he left. But as he did so he noticed a private message from one of his online friends or at least he thought it was. It was from Magical MacGuffin. That was his current name, he swore ever other hour he changes it to something else. Maybe he was some kind of scammer on the lamb. Anyway his message read…

 **Magical MacGuffin: good game dude! :D**

He typed back.

 **ASS-Hurt Glaive: U 2**

This received a response,

 **Magical MacGuffin: So ... Role playing in Fallout next?**

He typed.

 **ASS-Hurt Glaive: yep gotta entire sandbox to rape and pillage my way though. Slaves brimstone, blood, you know usual modded stuff.**

 **Magical MacGuffin: Dude you gotta check out this RPG I got! It's made by Rooster teeth!**

 **ASS-Hurt Glaive: The Red vs Blue guys?**

 **Magical MacGuffin: Yep! Hang on I'll send you a copy of the early access.**

A message prompt showed his account had received a gift. Selecting with the mouse, he opened the prompt to read **Remnant Hardcore Immersion edition.** 'Wow that title sounds incredibly damn dumb. No wonder its early access.' He thought, but typed.

 **ASS-Hurt Glaive:** **Thanks dude I'll install and see what it is about.**

He closed the chat window.If he was honest with himself, it probably was one of those asset flip titles, but hey he was never one to pass up free stuff. After setting up the game to install he went on his merry way to the New Vegas Wasteland, Never once reading the user terms and services.

-Present, Home, Bathroom-

… "But how did a steam game get me-"

 **Z Look kid. Explaining how to transfer souls from one plane of existence to the other is a complicated task, even if you had ten thousand years to burn. Just know that you're here in Remnant and contractually unable to go back. So I'm just going to explain your situation, and tip you in what tools we allow you to … well hopefully survive with. Cool? Z**

He quite frankly didn't have a question. He didn't even have what to question to begin with. There was nothing he could make a question from. That's how lost he felt, his normally curious self just shut down, whispered a weak yes, and listened.

 **Z Ok, so when you agreed to that contract, you agreed to a binding clause to have your soul switch places with your alternate self from where you are now. I know; signing your life away on a gaming platform, corporate shittery at its finest. Well, the "you" from Remnant agreed as well. So he's living your life, and you're living his, which reminds me. I need to tell you the introduction to the place. I would've gone with the video, but budget cuts. Meh what can you do. E-hem. "Welcome Traveler to the world of Remnant. Here is a world very much like your own but at siege by the darkness called Grimm. The kingdoms of Humanity lie at an impasse, unwilling to shrink and unable to grow. Will you Traveler, help usher a new day? Or damn civilization to the Dust from once it came. Or perhaps live by the sideline, only observing, never interfering. The Choice is ultimately yours dear Traveler. Whatever your path, always remember, Keep moving forward." Well kid that's to official stuff out of the way. So you want to play twenty questions or go over that oh so important UI. Z**

He sighed. Well better get to list the damages. "UI, Please." he said as politely possible. Best not to piss off the guy who seems to be giving him help.

 **Z Atta boy! Don't worry kid things are only marginally worse here than back at your home universe... excluding of course the racism, demonic abominations hell-bent of human extinction, questionable social practices, governmental disillusionment, economic crisis… Ah you know what you'll figure that out by yourself. So anyway you already see that glowing screen we're talking though? That's your UI slash I-phone slash Scroll slash Pip-boy. You get the idea; I know you're a fan of Fallout. Ok I'm going to close the call screen so you can browse the main page. Z**

The guy still somewhat questioning reality, brought his arm to get a proper look at the screen. On cue what was Call page gave way a page with five tabs, reading **Health, Inventory, Jobs/Quests, Store,** and **Scroll**

 **Z Alright as you can see the main page has 5 tab each with their own functionality. Go to Health. Z** ordered the voice from his arm. Pressing it brought up a blue bar. Under it was a large orange help button. **Z Ok what you're seeing right now is your health page. Notice there is no red or green bar. Since you got the hardcore package, you don't get a stinkin' health bar. Instead whatever kills you back in your old life kills you here, other factors abstaining of course. With me so far, I can't stress the importance of that tidbit. Z** He didn't know if the voice in the call could see him, but he nodded anyway. It seemed he did notice and the voice droned on. **Z Ok, as you can see there's a large orange help button. That's to come in contact with customer support, but there are rules. One the help option is only to discuss the functionality of the UI or any other game features. Two No soliciting about the world you're in now. That is for you to discover by yourself. Three Scroll functionality doesn't count as UI help. Got that? Good, on to Inventory. Z**

Instantly the page flickered to what the tab above it designated as the **Inventory.** It was a five by ten grid with a back and next button on either side. Under each displayed **1/10** and in the corner **Ⱡ0**

 **Z Ok Inventory, self-explanatory. It holds shit and your money. We'll work on how to interface with it later, for now I'll give you the run down on its rules. One, no sentient life forms can be added. People and animals stuff like that. Plants, Fungus, dead stuff or anything that can't think is fine to add. Two, no objects too large that a person can't hold by themselves can be added. You may notice a loophole. That if you're physically stronger, you can add heavier stuff. Things that are an exception to this rule do exist but again that's for you to find out. Moving on! Z**

Before a question could be issued, the screen switched to a window with two tabs both labeled **Jobs** and **Quests** respectively.

 **Z Here you can see Quests and Jobs, Quests are one time issues that need to be resolved. Of course since this is "real life", they have a time limit and reward depending on circumstances. So Quests can be as short as the minute you get them or as long as a life time. Also, they can be for peanuts or for the sacred relics of the universe…or something like that. Now jobs are stable things you more than often enough you have to do, usually daily. Anything ranging from going to school to military missions or even crimes is counted under this tab. Of course you're reward varies from your run of the mill monthly wage to illegal weapons, illegal substances, and hell even slaves if you look hard enough and can stomach the work. Z** The Screen once again changed. Now it resembled a website, a store catalogue and was in summary buttons galore. There were literally tabs on everything pertaining to life, from sports memorabilia, to tools, from furniture to military hardware. The pictures displayed can be best described as fifty picture dictionary carrying trucks carry pile up at a four way intersection.

 **Z Now, the store is something a fair bit more complex, basically here users like you can buy and sell things from their adventures in the multi-verse. There's a few things here I know you'll recognize, all of course for premium prices, and by premium I mean obscene prices. Hey shipping rates across reality aren't cheap bud. We'll get to how to use it later. Z** The sheet of light once again shifted to a grid of square icons. **Z Now the Scroll functionality is basically a mobile device, but it's against policy to explain anything beyond that. Sorry bud but you're on your own on that. Alright that's the jist of everything. Any questions? Z**

"…um…can you give me a bit to …digest all of this." weakly claimed the poor bastard.

 **Z A'ight yeah I get it. Need to lay back and take all this in. Well once you're ready just press the 'Help' button on the Health tab. Till then kiddo. Z**

The window closed, and he let out a breathe, he didn't know, was built up in his chest. 'What…What… just what the hell…' he fell back, pressing against the bathroom walls quashing his new feathered appendages, and slid down onto his rear. His body was a cocktail of emotions. Swirling torrents of dread, confusion, paranoia, his mind felt like overheating, trying to apply logic to his supernatural circumstances. It was as if his entire mental process seized up altogether, a machine with a clog in the works. Nonetheless, there was a way. The man speaking to him from his own arm wasn't his most ideal source, but it'll have to do. Besides it could be worst, he could be a roach that dies of anorexia or in Dragon Ball Z where the earth gets destroyed every weekend, silver linings and all that. No he wasn't just making excuses to cope.

He gave a sigh, lamenting his current situation. 'Grimm something or another, Humanity's somewhere between fucked and just the tip fellatio nervous, and dams. Well I'm no architect, nor do I know jack about dams. Between sitting in my house forever jerking off, or doing something, I guess I'll just wing it. Fucking wing it… Speaking of winging…' Closing the screen of light on his arm with a mere though, and noting that screen of light thing seems to obey mental commands, he looked beyond his shoulder to see the two newest appendages he has ever experienced being part of his body. Both wing looked just like ones you'd see on birds of prey, large and powerful. Each feather upon closer inspection held a dusty texture or mixed gradients of mostly Browns, black, and a bit of grey in there. It was such a surreal feeling, seeing them moving, almost as inconceivable as the fact they were moving like an extra pair of arms on his back. Honestly he couldn't articulate how…weird it was to have six limbs at once. He slammed his palm onto his forehead 'Oh my god I forgot to ask about the goddamn wings.' That tears it, He was asking for an explanation the moment he gets a chance. But then inspiration hit him 'Does…does this make me an insect?'

Occupying his faculties with the redundant question, he made his way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast of Pop-tarts and a ceramic cup of milk. Normally he'd eat something a little more sumptuous, but this was hardily normal circumstances. He'd been a bit curious of his environment.

-Bedroom, Home-

Sipping the last of his milk, he set aside the mug, before sighing in an attempt to steel himself. 'Here goes nothing…' He opened up the screen by thought, just as an idea occurred in his head. 'Can I… scroll though with my mind?' Just then he thought of the inventory screen, the store, and then the health tab he was instructed to do. Like flash cards extreme premature edition. The screen instantaneously swapped from one to the other as fast as he could think the command. 'Useful, but I have business to attend'. On mental command, the orange large Help button pressed itself.'

 **Z Hey buddy! Couldn't help but notice you figured out the head commands by yourself. Good job, that'll make things, way easier. Ok so now you know this UI obeys mental commands, I suppose it won't surprise you to know inventory works the same way. 'Course you got nothing in there right now. So I guess now's as good time as any for you welcoming present. First, Ⱡ3000, so you don't die of hunger a week later, you poor hobo, you. Z** At thisour protagonist swallowed his pride and just took the commenting the nose, as there was no way to sock this bastard in the jaw for his transgression **Z And! Of course you'll need some weapons. Oh trust us you are going to need more firepower than you'll ever imagine if you plan on living for any period of time. Here's a Ⱡ 2000 weapon budget card and a Glock-18 to get you started, just activate the card and… well... you'll know what to do. Z**

The screen on his arm suddenly shifted to the inventory screen, in the corner, read **Ⱡ 3000** and in the first two inventory spaces, a miniature picture of a Glock 18 pistol and a shrunk picture of a green credit card. He mentally activated the card which for a split second loaded up to 100 % bar and brought a familiar screen.

"What... the…" he couldn't help but say. Before his was honest to god, the Counter Strike: Global Offensive weapon purchase wheel, a pie chart like menu listing load out category: **pistols, heavy, SMGs, rifles, grenades,** and **gear**. "So I buy like in the game?" he asked the disembodied voice.

 **Z Yup. Z** it responded simply.

The menu turned out to be the Terrorist version. Almost instinctually he switched to the pistols section but at the last moment kept himself from selecting the pie piece that read **Tec-9**. 'No, no, no, this isn't like the game… this is real life… kinda. He said I got a Glock before. It sucks in CSGO, but it's a pretty good pistol in real life.' He had to remind himself he was choosing guns to use in real life, not they're gaming counterparts. 'Thank God, CSGO guns suck by comparison. Spray pattern my ass. So I have two grand. Hmm' "Hey so can I buy something later?"

 **Z Sorry the card is one time use only. Once it has been activated, it'll disappear after use. Z**

"One time only huh." 'So I better make full use of the 2K. Well if in game economy stays true, this would be force buy...' On command the menu swapped to the **heavy** section. It prompted a selection of three shotguns, the **Benelli Nova Ⱡ1200, Benelli XM1014 Ⱡ2000 ,** and **Remington 870 sawed-off Ⱡ1200,** as well as two machine guns, **FN M249 MK2,** and **IMI Negev.** As much as he wanted the machine guns, they were far beyond his price range, standing at lofty **Ⱡ 5200** and **Ⱡ 5700** respectively.

Turning his attention to what he could afford, he thought 'Hmm so shotguns are versatile if memory serves, but… They also have hell of a lot of recoil for someone who hasn't shot a gun in his life, alas me. And they aren't the easiest guns to load in the middle of a prolong fire fight. Hmmm… Maybe shotguns aren't for me right now.' He mental commanded the UI to switch to the **SMG** section.

Presented to him was a selection of five submachine guns: **MAC model 10 Ⱡ1050, H &K MP7 Ⱡ1700, H&K UMP-45 Ⱡ1200, Izhmash PP-19 Bizon Ⱡ1400, **and **FN P90 Ⱡ2350 .** 'When in doubt spray and pray. SMGs may be the way to go since they have lower recoil when compared to shotguns. Also, cause they use pistol ammunition which should be relatively cheap.' He wasn't an idiot or at least he'd like to think he wasn't; all this talk about money and inventory meant there was some form of economical underpinning to whatever madness this place had in store for him, kind of like Counter Strike game. Only here bullets should cost money. Looking over the selection, he began to list his criteria. First He had no idea what was in store, so whatever he was in for, he better go for general purpose. Second ammunition should be relatively available, as of right now he had no means to support himself financially, so on the cheap of supply and maintenance is the fact of the day. Third, it had to look awesome, just because he needed something to feel better about today and the immediate unsure future.

'Hmm so by the second point that means the MP7 and P90 are out.' Drawing from his limited knowledge of fire arms, he knew both used specially designed pointed ammo. That didn't really translate to cheap and plentiful, besides the P90 was out of his budget. The MAC was also out, as it didn't really seem like the best general purpose fire arm, due to its rather small profile, and he was a fairly big guy. That and it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to control because of its high rate of fire. That leaves the UMP-45 and the Bizon. 'Well… the UMP use .45 which has better stopping power, but again he didn't know if a novice like him could handle .45 ACP even in burst fire. Also the Bizon has that Hexi- Hexal- … tube magazine, so it had um sixty-four bullets? Or was it fifty-three? Well in the CSGO game code it has 64 bullets and was chambered in 9x19mm, so either or. Either way, it's got an ass ton-age of bullets.' He quickly reviewed all these factors in his head once more.

Sure of his selection, he pressed on the Bizon, the wheel then took **Ⱡ1400** out of his **Ⱡ2000** money pool. Thus this left him with **Ⱡ600**.

'Well if prices stay the way they do in game, Kevlar armor is six hundred fifty… so I guess I'll just get some grenades. Reading his mind, the menu before him displayed the **Grenade** menu. Now it advertised the **Incendiary** **Grenade Ⱡ600, Decoy Grenade Ⱡ50, Flash bang Ⱡ200, High-Explosive Grenade Ⱡ300,** and the **Smoke Grenade Ⱡ300.** Not entire sure if he wanted to handle high explosives just yet, or if he even should, he bought the flash bang, the smoke grenade, and the decoy because he might as well, since there was really nothing else to do with the last **Ⱡ100**.

The moment it registered he could afford no more with **Ⱡ50** remaining, the menu closed and before him laid his haul.

 **Glock-18**

 **Izhmash PP-19 Bizon**

 **Flash Bang Grenade X1**

 **Smoke Grenade X1**

 **Decoy Grenade X1**

 **Z Cool! Z** call out the voice from the display **Z Now, we got you loaded for battle, but I don't need to tell you, how much ass you suck at fighting right now. So I'm going to leave you a couple of things. A note from your body donor and a quest to get you started in the ass kicking department. Cia- Z**

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" the out placed man cried "Hold on! Can you please first explain to me the wings?" he begged. For a moment, silence pushed him to the conclusion, the voice had nothing for him, until he heard a quick.

 **Z Check your Inventory. Z**

And that was that. The call screen closed and left him with his inventory page with the stuff he just bought and a newly added paper note sitting right by them. In the corner of the **Jobs/Quests** tab was a red dot, signaling as a notification. It was a matter of a split second decision for him to choose the note. Once it did white wires began to impose their existence around his hand. This process took less than half a second, before his sense of touch registered mass, the white surface, and the dryness of the paper. He had just pulled something out of the immaterial.

'… Video game logic. Because fuck the educational efforts you stride so hard for.' Regardless to his opinion of the absurdity of his situation, 'Am I or am I not in the twilight zone?', he really should read this over.

 **Dear Numb nuts,**

Yep. This was definitely his, or rather an alternate self? No one address him as such unless they know not how suicidal it was to do so while he could get his hands on them.

 **If you are reading this, then you are me and I am you. Try and let that sink in muzerfucka.**

 **Anyway you probably figured out by now if you're there, then I'm where you lived. You may be thinking, "Why would other me bend his other version over a table and screw me without so much as a reach around?" Well here is why.**

 **Fuck you.**

 **I have to live with all sort of shit, like Grimm, rabid terrorists, and explosive pixie powder, worrying about what the hell will eat me when I have to eventually leave the city, and I find out about you. You, my lazier alternate, reading, playing video games, writing shitty online fiction, and eating cupcakes, all of this in a tropical paradise I might add.**

 **I won't bother going into details, but by cosmic powers beyond us, I agreed to have us switched, with no way back. We both know, there is no way you can undo what I did. Don't worry; we're more similar than you think. I'll keep up your, well, MY studies; I'll be the good son of the family as you were. I'll accomplish our dream of a cushy non-life threatening job of being a doctor of a nation, NOT threatened by terrorism or homicidal, spiky, man eating fauna.**

 **Well with now that out of the way, I better lay down some ground rules you should be know if you want live for any amount of time. 1** **st** **. You (I) got into an accident at the beginning of this summer. Don't ask why, let's just say, if you faint ignorance cause of amnesia, that won't be questioned too much. 2** **nd** **You probably noticed the two wings on your back, EAGLE wings. You, my alternate bud, are something called a Eagle Faunus, a human-like person with animal traits. In our case, eagle. Basically you're human, but with some added pros and cons. You can eat like you regularly do, but you're gonna eat a lot more meat than other stuff. Basically switch out your portions of rice with anything protein. Beef, fish, shellfish, eggs, if it's from an animal, its fine. Also you can't fly yet, or at least I haven't been able to, who knows maybe you'll get it to work. Finally, you may have noticed something different with your eyes. The color ain't for show. Won't tell you what's that about, it's a surprise. Happy early birthday.**

 **3** **rd** **Get to how to fight ASAP this place may look a lot like you're dimension at times, but make no mistake, your life will require you to know how to fight. 4** **th** **my parents are dead.**

There was a small warped surface, the remains of a tear that managed to land on the sheet. The area around it was noticeably thin, from great effort to rub it out. He read on.

 **As part of their will, they left a trust fund to pay for basics, water, electricity, heating, etc. for the next four years, till I by which I now mean you, finish school. More on that later. 5** **th** **I took the liberty of getting you a summer job so you don't need to worry about basic amenities for a while, take it or leave it. It's up to you, no one there knows us. It's between Shell and Haze st. look for a place called the Den and ask for a guy named Junior.** **6** **th** **There is a special care package in our special place, Its got my load out, arms and armor. You probably picked up by now, if you have weapons, shits going to go down. Well that brings up our school and what that means in Remnant as a whole. My 7** **th** **point is that you're going to Beacon academy. It's a combat school which I, again you, got a full scholarship going. Believe me that shits going to be brought up again and again. There you will learn how not to die to fast against genocidal beasts called Grimm, terrorists, pirates, illegal slavers, and whatever villainy the Vale government decides to stack your body against. Oh right the Vale is name of city you are in, which is also the name of the kingdom. Well to you it's more like a city-state but I guess it really doesn't matter.**

 **I think that's it everything else should be covered in the next note, where our cache is. You know where it is. Good luck, you'll need every last bit of it.**

"Well thank you too, you douchebag. Don't think just because you're an orphan, means you get away with screwing me."

 **Oh and before I forget, you need to know my name, which is yours now. It Ashurn Ormolu Klay.**

" That name's gay, Serious I sound like artistic middle-eastern teen filled with angst. Why can't I be Harvest. It's a name with real meaning, pride, and family history behind it."

 **Now I know, circumstances as they are, this all seems stupid, but remember what dad always said.**

"Nothing has meaning, till someone gives it meaning."/ **Nothing has meaning, till someone gives it meaning.** he recited as he read. "Mine still has more meaning than yours though..."

 **That will true here far more than you'll ever be comfortable with. Till the next note, and thank you for your time in reading this.**

Ever the polite finish, a habit he picked in school. People tend to skip what they don't care to read, the fact they're even bothering is a privilege to writer in of itself. Teachers, along with everyone forced to read papers they were obligated to at least appreciate the thought a bit, at least in his writing classes.

Regardless, now he had something to work with at least. "Our special place, hm." Should he raid his cache for the stuff or start that quest he received not long ago. 'Hm well seeing as weapons are very prominent, I can safely say that before I go and fuck off to brave the new world, I better loot that cache.'a ping could be heard from his forearm. Bringing it to his chest and activating the menu, displayed to him the **Quests** section of the **Job/Quests** tab.

 **Quest: Consolidation: Old Ashurn's cache**

 **-Loot your body's former resident's cache in your 'special place' for some much needed supplies**

 **Quest: Job Interview: The Den**

 **-Speak to Junior at the Den, between Shell and Haze st., in (2) days for a summer position.**

 **Quest: Mustering and Scramble: Friendly Fire**

 **-Attend to any Friendly Fire range and practice field to start the combat tutorial.**

 **'** Well at least I'm not left high and dry here… I could be high on something though.' He wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't still dreaming. Regardless, he had something to do. He made his way over to his closet, and pulled it open. Ignoring the hanging clothes and stacks upon stacks of books, he popped a false white plastic panel off the wall. Honestly, it was there when his family moved in all those years ago. Evidently, Ashurn's home was much the same. Dragging the large luggage bag from the hidden space, he laid it flat upon his bed.

'Strange it's a helluva lot heavier…'

He unzipped it and took a look inside. There laid his airsoft attire, a brown trench coat with matching pants, white face wrap, googles, black winter gloves with white fingers, tan combat boots, and his Russian Ushanka. His friends always questioned his sanity, when he decided to wear full winter attire fit for the Eastern Front in the Hawaiian heat, but he loved the look and already had most of the clothes on hand. Airsoft ain't a cheap hobby, so buying most of his load-out for forty bucks was a better option than most who spent up to a hundred to look like a Navy Seal. Besides, he was always tough enough to work with it. Next to it was his kukri, a black forward bent blade, he got to cut down some of the of the vegetation around his house when it got a bit out of control. What was new however was the armor, a black military vest, full limbs of some form of hard black fabric, and a half mask of the same material.

He pick up the kukri. He pop open the button that held the handle in place, and unzip the sheath. It looks exactly like one he had back home. The weapon is all black with a rubberized handle with a palm swell. Tipping the bottom of the handle is seven blunt metallic teeth meant to crush, with an downward smashing fist around the grip. The blade is thirty centimeters in length, the business end of which, curved into a belly a third from the tip. The other side of the blade held saw-teeth for eighty percent its length, meant to saw though wood, though he rarely used it. 'Wait, something is different.' He noted as he examine the base of the blade. It was Chinese characters stacked on top of each other, reading top to bottom.

 **记得他是凡人**

 **"** Ominous." 'Remember, it is mortal. Meh, I guess that's one discrepancy between the two of us. Our kukris are slightly different. Oddly specific difference, from the letter, their personalities seem similar. Hmm wonder what else if different. Well for one, I keep getting told to I need to be ready for a war of something.' He took a moment to take in the prospect. 'Can I even carry this thing in public? Is there some kind of open carry law against machete. Can I conceal carry or-' Where ever his thoughts were lead him, stopped as the kukri disintegrated into white specs.

'WHAT Th- oh. Ohhhhhh right, inventory, game elements, new reality, FUBAR current situation, etc. Ancestors before me guide me. This entire thing is just…ugh.' He lamented being reminder he wasn't quite in Hawaii anymore. Hell, he wasn't even sure praying to the ancestors did anything anymore. Did his ancestors still exist here? Did they still watch over him, or were they Ashurn's? His grief only deepened has the weight of an unsure afterlife began to sit its fat ass on his shoulders.

'Leave the matter of the spirit to the monks Harvest. Were it our business to ponder the heavens, we'd shave our heads. All we need is faith, faith in the ancestors, faith in the family, and most importantly faith in ourselves, to see us though every ill and transgression' Well at least that was the fancy fully realized translation. It sounded much more amusing in his fathers thick accent with some Chinese, Cantonese and Vietnamese mixed in.

Feeling a tiny bit better, Ashurn, as he probably should start referring to himself as, opened up his inventory, and selected with a thought, his kukri. This prompted a menu of…

 **Equip**

 **Move**

 **Examine**

 **Drop**

 **Sell**

 **'** Well my decade and a half in schooling went to waste, but at least my addiction to video games is paying off. Equip is just pulling out into reality again. Move is probably just adjusting where it is in the menu. Drop is just dropping it on the ground. Sell…um… most likely has something to do with the Store tab. What does examine do though.' Out of curiosity he selected the option. It displayed…

 **Item:Type 77 Kukri Model 2"Work-course" Custom**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Weapon type: Machete**

 **Material: "Ultimatum" alloy**

 **Manufacturer(s): Ultra Munitions inc., Modifier:*Unknown***

 **Modifications**

 **-Runes: *Unknown*,*Unknown*,*Unknown*,*Unknown***

 **Description: A kukri made from a dust alloy, this weapons was created with general use in mind, rather than the Model 's military focus. In addition to the edge meant to draw blood, its back, is meant to work materials for field work such as sawing wood or to create a spark against stone. The handle tip was designed for the same survival intentions, but is also ideal for bludgeoning skulls in a pinch.**

 **This particular example has been modified**

 **Carved into the base of the blade is a motto, Though its import is currently unconfirmed.**

 **It radiates a familiar presence, as though it means much more than just a tool.**

" So much information, yet most of it's useless, cause I don't know what the hell stuff like what "Ultimatum" as a metal is. Some of this stuff is just down right cryptic." Like the note before, white wires formed in his hand, and gave shape to the Kukri has he mental commanded it to. Feeling the mass in his hand, the fish out of water could only offer, "The fuck do you mean it radiates? It doesn't radiate jack." He could only sigh and put it back in his ethereal menu, pocket thing. Cryptic better not being a running gag here or I swear to God. Where's a wise Buddhist Monk when a Buddhist needs one. Oh yeah about about twenty five million dimension Kilometers of fuck you that way.'

Feeling his internal rant make more and more irritable as the emotions behind it, settled within and festered a bit. He decided to just sigh, and reprimand himself 'Idle hands are the devil's workshop. Getting pissed isn't going to help… You know what, where's that range and practice field? Friendly fire was it? I just need to do… something… to get my mind off it, till I can think clearly.' Like an automaton, his arms steeped up everything in the cache to put dispel them all out of reality and into his hammer space, even a few notes and books that had been hidden underneath everything else. He was curious, but right now he was simmering with fury just under the surface. It wasn't a time to read and digest was a time for his to just do and work himself till he could think things out.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the "Scroll" functionality the voice had mentioned. Seeing as he compared to a iPhone, it didn't take a genius to figure out the GPS function. Upon pressing the **Scroll** tab he found a grid of applications, from there muscle memory took over. Find the map function, engage the search business, mentally fill in the black with the place's name and find the nearest in the franchise, literally went as fast as he could think about it. Basically he equated the experience to being the laziest, self gratifying texting teenager ever. Quick and easy, but wholly unsatisfied, though that could just be his mood talking.

 **Address: 2801, Death row.**

'… it's a fucking pun.' He couldn't even be mad at it. Someone went to the length of putting their whole business in a particular place, just to make a joke of it. He could respect that. Regardless, he had something to do and some steam that need to be worked out.

He quickly changed out of his night clothes and changed into some cameo pants and some sneakers. The new occupant of Ashurn's body, then had to remember the fact he still had raptor wings on his back when he picked out a top. How the hell was he to put on a shirt, when there were no holes on the back. Actually he took off his sleeping shirt, how did it not have holes on the back? Taking a minute to guess they just allow his wings though somehow. 'Only one way to find out.' He thought as one of his shirt dematerialized into his dimensional pocket prompting the screen on his arm.

 **Item: Blue Striped White Shirt Custom**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Attire type: Clothes**

 **Material: Cotton**

 **Manufacturer(s): BIG threads, Modifier: Ashurn Ormolu Klay**

 **Modifications**

 **-Runes: Avian Faunus Adaption Rune**

 **Description A simple shirt for everyday use, for wearing to get together or wiping down for a car wash.**

 **This particular example has been modified**

 **Avian Faunus Adaption Rune- Faunus at times have trouble finding attire to fit around their animal features, such as claws, tusks, ears, etc. For the most part, Faunus simply use human clothes that don't interfere with their traits, while others have to purchase or manufacture custom clothes, when their traits simply get in the way. This is especially true for eagle Faunus, or any sub-species generally treated with hostility by the general mammalian majority. Fortunately, past contact with other certain groups have resulted in means of working around this problem, Runes.**

'Well that solves that mystery… but…' The new eagle Faunus extended his wings as far as he could. In other words, a bit until they hit the ceiling. He still wasn't use to the felling of two extra arms on his back without hands or fingers. Let alone, how was he suppose to walk out the door like this. 'Maybe… the coat? Ashurn did direct me to it.' Closing the shirt's window, he open one for the coat of his airsoft uniform.

'There we go.'

 **Item: Storm Assault Trooper Officer's Coat**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Attire type: Medium Armor**

 **Material: Cotton, Silk, Kevlar, Carbon micro-fiber webbing, trace amounts of various dust alloys**

 **Manufacturer(s): Ultra Munitions inc.**

 **Modifications**

 **-n/a**

 **Description An Officer's coat from a military force from a time long past. This coat was specially designed and produce with a certain body type in mind, but can be worn by humans and similar Faunus. It has been handed down to its current owner, in hopes the past can forge a future for him.**

'Something's going on here.' This coats description is vague at best, the the kukri's has more detail, of more import, detail he knew ALREADY about the kukri, the back story of it didn't exist to him, but he was familiar to it's utility, the coat however, the newly minted Faunus had no idea of its application beyond its ability of keeping him warm. No idea of its background, than what is given or battle applications. Could the description be based off his own perceptions, even if they could be wrong?

He produced the Officer's coat from its non-spacial home, and put it on. It fit him like a tailored glove, not too small and long enough to reach mid shins. His wings folded to the coat's interior surprisingly well, despite how large they were, like a full sized blanket just binds them comfortably. A person couldn't even tell he was anything but human were they to gaze upon him now. Seeing has he had the coat on, he might as well put on everything else, if nothing else, but to complete the look. The new comer could look at each piece whenever he pleased, there was no hurry. Though he worried what others, like the police, may think of a masked stranger in public, he was having such a bad day, he stopped caring after about half a minute. Hell if anyone had a problem with the white face wrap, he could just take it off and put it back in his inventory, no harm, no foul. He turned to his room's full body mirror, to gauge his appearance.

He took a look in the mirror for a bit, taking in his visage, until he could take no more, and just left. That wasn't him in the mirror, so it really didn't matter anyway, he had somewhere to be.

Anywhere that didn't remind him of the old life.

He was ready to go out the door till, out of the corner of his sight, he spotted something. A collection of ceramic statues surrounding bowls of fruit, dishes of coins, and a vase of ashes, all housed in a simple wooden cabinet. The family shrine, maybe it wasn't the exact same one, but the air of familiarity was certainly there. Solemnly, he took to his knees before it, prostrated once, before folding his hands. His hands bobbed once, twice, a third, and a final fourth time. Beseeching his, or Ashurn's ancestors, for something, guidance, fortune, even he had no idea what he wanted, or more importantly his request was complete, he bowed once more, before leaving.

Why couldn't he remember his old life, without remembering how he lost it.

-Sidewalk,Residential district, City of the Vale-

His sour mood just didn't sizzle out with the heat of the afternoon sun. Despite the happy radiance above him, he felt little of its warmth underneath his own hanging, drizzling cloud. The big Hydrogen ball of farting Helium seemed to mock his disposition, though even he knew that he was just being a whining child, and the world would carry on regardless of him. People, pets, cars and signs passed by from in front and behind, none he would met eye to eye, so he may hid himself in his self pity. Which is unfortunate.

He probably could've avoided the head on collision.

*CLANG* His head lurched back has his faculties tried to keep up. 'Dear god, did I just run into a pole!' If he did, poles shouldn't be nearly has wide, nor make girl noises has it also collapse to the ground.

Slapping the side of his head to refocus his optics, he saw what he just rear ended into a teenager. From her position on the concrete, he could see, were she standing, she could reach his chin with the top of her curly ginger hair, which was home to a crooked pink bow. She had green eyes and pale skin and was clad with a ye olde blouse, a girls skirt overalls, and black stocking with the same colored shoes. Though out the entire outfit where odd Neon green lines that occasionally glowed. To be completely honest, he felt a little awkward with his drab brown Russian getup. The fanciest thing he had going was his grey-black Ushanka with a gold two headed eagle pinned to the front. Well, that aside, she's cute, especially when he notice her freckles dusted just under her eyes.

From her prone position of the baking curb, the orangette looked confused. Then again if he collided with a Russian world war 2 soldier in public space, he'd also be bewildered.

"Apologies." He offered.

"Ohhhh you require an apology from me. Ok I'm sorry." The ginger girl said, still laying on the pavement, how'd she not started cooking in the hot sun, was a wonder in of itself.

"What? No no, I am saying sorry." He clarified. "When I said "Apologies", I'm offering my apologies."

"Oh! Is this some form of new custom? Sensational! I'm learning so much about society's interactions already! I can't wait till I tell uncle and father." She rambled on.

"…uh …yeah…" 'Was this girl even old enough to be out on her own? Judging by her appearance she, should be like sixteen max, thirteen minimum. Actually how old am I? I was twenty two before coming here… but… later, I'll figure out later.' Coming out of his zoning out, the Faunus noticed she was gazing a him with he head cocked a bit to the side. 'Oh geez she's looking at me. Quick think of something witty.' "You know there are better places to lay that on the ground." 'Hehe nice.'

"Indeed." The prone position girl responded, still frying like an egg on the sidewalk.

"… do you need assistance getting up?" He inquired as he offered his gloved hand.

" That would be kind of you. Thank you." She took him up on his offer. He pulled, and pulled, and pulled, She was surprisingly heavy for a girl who's waist line was as thick has his thigh!

'What the hell is she made of? Fucking iron?!' With a final effort that almost made him heave, he finally pulled her onto her feet. 'Was she even trying to get up that entire time! Well I crashed into her, so I guess that's fair…' "Are you alright? Sorry I wasn't watching where I was going."

"I am operating at full capacity! Why were you not watching where you were going?" She enthusiastically proclaimed.

'Is she just asking based on what I'm saying?' "Oh you know just pondering my existence and wondering about my purpose in life." In the event you didn't have a better answer, just go with the most interesting. What's more interesting than having his soul transferred to another plane of reality and his self centered melodramatic situation.

"Oh! I've done the same before! Have you come to any conclusions! Whenever I do it, I just hurt my head. My Uncle says I don't have to worry about it."

He choked a laugh before it could escape. 'I can't believe this is how I'm talking to a stranger. Well, an answer to it. Hmm well I'll just give the one I always had before.' "Just the same I always come to, whenever I think on such things, I don't have a purpose. No one can give me one nor should they, so I'll make my own. All with everything it entails, the credit, the blame and most importantly the responsibility of whatever goal I choose for myself." His single female audience looked at his with a vague wonderment. Her lips parted just a ajar, with her eyes wider than before. He probably looked like some kind of street side show attraction offering something so personal to a stranger. "Sorry I'm going on about none sens-"

"NO! No Nononono it's fine, it's just, father told me such conversational topics were meant between loved ones and friends… are we friends?" She asked, almost beaming with such powerful lights of kawaii, or at least that's how he'd describe the her expression.

He chuckled a bit. "Ned to know each other's names before that can happen. My name is Har- Ashurn by the way, Ashurn Ormolu Klay."

" Sen-sational! Please to meet you Ashurn Ormolu Klay! My name is Penny Polendina! You can call me Penny! So does this mean…"

"…What?"

"Does this mean we're friends?"

Accepting his new name without even thinking, the newly christened Ashurn wondered for a bit, not on the relinquishment of his very identity, but on the question of a stranger, he had known for less that five minutes. "Sure."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY or any publicly recognizable properties nor do I make money from this. Seriously does anyone on this site own anything?

AN: Well I probably should explain Ashurn's name origin, now that it has been established.

Ashurn Ormolu Klay is a bastardized Homophone of Alexander the Great, the Macedonian conqueror.

In accordance to the color rule:

Ash- pertains to grey or black dust, Urn, is a type of vase used to hold human remains as ashes, and Ashurn is a allusion to Ashur, the Assyrian god of war.

Ormolu is a gold alloy used in art often as gilding for porcelain, like the urn part of the first name.

Klay is well clay, associated as brown or grey, it is a commonly used art material.

From this we can see, Ashurn's color scheme is grays, browns, gold, and possibly black.

Ashurn's iconography will be explained later. Till then, peace.

Sentence

"Talk"

'Thought'

*Sound*

-Place-

 **Z Electronic voice Z**

 **Document/Text**

-Friendly Fire Range and Practice Field, 2801 Death Row, City of Vale-

"Heeeere we are! Friendly Fire!" announced his excitable ginger companion. Inwardly, The eagle Faunus was thanking whatever divine forces, his ancestors or otherwise, for the boon to his mood named Penny.

What was suppose to be a quiet and boring trip quickly turned to a few hours of quirks and few loose screws of fun. Penny, bless her soul, was just so energetic and innocent, it was forthright infectious. One moment, she stared at oncoming traffic, while right in the middle of the road, as the light turned telling the cars to flatten her to paste. The next, she thought it would be fun to try the kiddy slide at a park on their way to Ashurn's destination. The result was the plastic of the unfortunate slide crumbling underneath her weight, much to her adorable disappointment and pout.

His delight aside, 'How the hell is someone this naïve allowed to wonder out on their own.' Ashurn found himself asking this over and over, as Penny seemed to go around the suburb as if it was Disneyland. He was alright with her walking the length of elevated walls, but found she had no clue what a fire truck was, or a tennis court, or lawn gnomes, or a light machine gun.

On a bit of a tangent, turns out Remnant, or at least the Vale, had a very, very loose view on open carry. On the way to Friendly Fire, he saw quite a few people carrying, everything from swords to halberds, and revolvers to rocket launchers. Hell one passerby toting around what looked like a belt fed machine gun, waved happily to group of kids who must've knew him, given the bunch of toddlers rushed to hug his legs. All of this seemed like just the everyday, as no one else seemed to care. Given how much combat was emphasized by the tutorial voice and Ashurn's note, regularly carried means of martial defense must be commonplace here.

Speaking of automatic fire and Penny, his companion seemed to spit out questions on just about everything and anything, that came to line of sight. For the most part, Ashurn could explain to her, whatever came by. Why does the kid want to keep his kite aloft? Why do people drive motor vehicles, while talking on their phon- Oh sorry, "Scrolls" has she reminded him about three times so far. And why do dogs kick grass and dirt after doing their business? Sometimes, they'd run into something he can't explain, like why there were ships fly above that flap their wings? Why was that guy with the dog ears dangling off his head, scratching himself with his foot? And most notably, why was that one girl shooting thunderbolts…

"Aaaarrggghhh!"

"Sorry…"

"I TOLD YOU TO LOOSE WHERE ITS GOING! NOT WHERE IT IS!"

'… Friendly Fire indeed.' More unexplained circumstances occurred with greater frequency as they closed in. Friendly Fire Range and Practice Field, looked like a mixture of a gym, firing range, and martial arts class mixed into a single powder keg of a building. The two newly minted friends had walked from the suburban neighborhood, Ashurn's home happen to occupy to what could be considered the poorer side of town. It reminded him a bit of Chinatown back in Hawaii, with buildings of varying degrees of deterioration, intelligible graffiti, shady folks around ever corner, some hobos, and the occasional, piss puddle or poop pile. In a block radius from Friendly Fire, were completely demolished buildings, all just piles of cement fragments and few bricks still in one piece like a car bomb went off and somehow the center of it all still hadn't been destroyed. Before he could ask Penny why, a rocket launched out of Friendly Fire, was spinning wildly into the air before suicide bombing into the rubble. It was a wonder how the establishment was still standing at this point. Some parts of the building were blown apart and patched up with duct tape. Some paint had been applied to cover blast residue, and occasional some form of bright highly explosive projectile would go flying off from somewhere and occasionally hit something not important.

"Ah Oum! MY LEG!"… Nothing Important.

" Thanks for being my guide, Penny." Ashurn said, ignoring the bleeding man on the ground being pulled aside by on scene medical personnel.

"No problem, friend Ashurn! Happy to help." Penny saluted back.

For a moment, he speculated if Penny had any military ties, or was just being cute. Given her... Pennyness..., it was really up in the air. "So, now that we're friends, you want to keep in touch?"

His newest companion eagerly shook her head up and down as rapid as it could go, before deflating. "I have a Scroll number, but Uncle forbade me from giving it to anyone he doesn't approve."

'Well that blows.' "Well, how about I give you my number. That way you can call me whenever and you don't get in trouble with you family." Offered Ashurn with genuine sympathy. He knew all to well family by nature worry about you. In many cases including his own, sometimes to some detriment. 'Still, was Penny's family over protective or not? She could wander around by herself, but not give friends her contact information? Maybe her family just a tad odd like her.'

Penny, upon taking a moment to process his offer, got uncomfortably close to him with stars in her green eyes. "Really?!" She exclaimed.

Ashurn almost fell backwards with how close she got, but still remain erect. "Really…" 'Penny, its just a pho- Scroll.. number. Not a cure for cancer.' Then something dawned upon him. 'Oh dear god, I don't know my own phone number…' "Er Penny, how do you check what your Scroll number is? I'm not very tech savvy and umm … well … I've never given my phone number before."

That was of course and out right lie, and something generally against his principles. However, given the very special circumstances Ashurn found himself since this morning, well, adaptability is a principle in and of itself. Besides, Penny likely wouldn't question it. This was just him covering his bases, than anything else.

"Don't worry Ashurn, I'm fully equipped with a vast database on modern hardware and software, as well as the cutting edge of technological developments."

"Amazing?" Penny's diction seemed…off to the Eagle Faunus.

"Father keeps me updated. I'll be more than happy to provide assistance. Just show me your Scroll and I'll do the rest."

"Well alright." Consented Ashurn, his Scroll flashing into existence on his arm. Before he could so much take another breath, Penny's hand snatched his, with a surprisingly uncompromising vice grip.

"Astounding! You have a implanted Holographic-Scroll? I've only ever seen these on Atlesian Special Operations units! Even then, they still have an exposed lens to display the holo-window, yet yours seems to project without any obvious origin! Extraordinary!"

"Umm Penny…"

"Yes?"

"That Phone number."

"Scroll number." She corrected.

"…I'm not very tech savvy ok. Now did you want my phone number now?"

"Scroll, and yes." Penny dropped topic of his arm phone and proceeded Ashurn to his number. It turned out to be in a personal information tab buried in the Profile & Identification application. Said app had a black round of cornered square enveloping a white I and D. After about minute of technical support, Ashurn gave his orangette bud his number, and made a mental note to checkout the rest of that ID later. Much to his shock, a quest actually popped up on the screen, while Penny still have full view of it.

 **Quest: Know thy self…: Ashurn Ormolu Klay**

 **-Read though your personal information.**

Ashurn waited to be barraged by questions rocket boasted with Penny branded enthusiasm. He waited and waited, and did it some more. "Penny are you still there?" 'Metaphorically' the Faunus mentally added. He turned his gaze to see Penny heavily concentrating on the screen.

Penny on cue snapped out of it. "Ashurn…"

'Aw hell here it comes…'

"Why do you have a picture of turtle eating a strawberry as your background?"

'My backgrounds a what now?' He redirected his attention, back to his Scroll, closing the quest tab with his mind, and turning back to the Scroll functionalities, revealed his, or rather Ashurn's scroll background was indeed, a small turtle gasping over a strawberry slightly bigger than itself. 'Where's my Cataphracts Charge background?' Back home, Ashurn always made sure each of his devices, from his desktop to his phone all had this really kickass screenshot, he took from one of his favorite games, Rome 2 total war. In the picture, he had the pride of his virtual army, his Hellenic Cataphracts, basically horsemen, armored head to hoof, charging down the dirty barbarians of the Steppe tribes. 'Still need an excuse for Penny though…' "I found it adorable." His mouth went without another thought. 'Guess without Rome in their history the game doesn't exist…disappointing, but surely they have something just as good here, right?'

"Oh yes! Trachemys scripta elegansis are very adorable. This infant one is smaller than it food. How is it going to eat it?"

'…They have Latin here? So does Rome exist here in their history? Ugh this differences and similarities are hurting my brain.' "I don't know, but I'd like to think-" Ashurn never got to finish as someone pushed him to the ground, and stride between him and Penny.

"Move it, wide load! You and your girlfriend are blocking the way." Cried the mace toting, orange haired teen clad in grey armor making his way inside Friendly Fire.

Penny glared at his back, before tending to Ashurn. "That was rather rude…" she comment, offering both hands to her friend.

"…could've at least asked, jerk." Whispered Ashurn to himself, before taking her hands. Unlike this morning, Penny had no problem pulling him up in an instant. Ashurn felt like she almost wrenched his arms right out of their sockets. 'What kind of vitamins do they feed this girl?' "Still we ARE blocking the way, and I really should head on in…"

Penny nodded with a bit of disappointment in here eyes. "I suppose this is where we part ways…"

Ashurn showed her as much sympathy a face wrap, goggles, and a Russian fur cap allowed. "Don't look so gloom. You've got my number, We can talk anytime you want."

The effect was instant. Penny lite up like a firework before wrapping her arms around him, much to his joy, as well has dismay, as his torso felt like concaving in. "You're right friend! I'll call you as soon as I can. I should hurry and return home before Uncle worries anymore!" It wasn't helping his health she was flailing him side to side. She dropped him where he stood, and made for a path out of the destroyed block.

As soon as she left Ashurn alone, he collapsed. "…my ribs…" 'Maybe I should just rest here for like five min-' Unfortunately his thought was killed early.

*EXPLOSION*

Almost literally.

"Gods damn it how did I miss?!"

"I don't know. How did you miss?"

"I know I lined it up. Gods, this always happens when I perform under stress!"

He should get inside before he get blown to kingdom come. Taking to all fours, he scrambled inside, as the explosion destroyed the door.

-Front room, Friendly Fire Range and Practice Field-

Ashurn walked as fast as he could pass the two men in camouflage lamenting over the quality of their rockets. He spotted the counter, manned by an employee. Reading a magazine named, **Ballroom Blitz Monthly** , was a young woman around mid twenty with peach skin, cherry hair tied back in a pony tail. She had on an orange uniform with the logo of her place of work and a matching cap sitting on her head. Surrounding her waist was a tool belt with just about hardware you could think of, just in reach of either of her gloved hands. As well as a noticeably large revolver in a holster.

The Faunus knocked on the counter to get her attention. She placed the paperback aside and morphed her face to a practiced smile. Kind of a shame in Ashurn's opinion, she was actually kind've hot. "Howdy there sugar." She greeted with an obvious southern twang. "If I remember you right…um Ashurn right? You here about the appointment you made a while back?"

"Affirmative." He simply gave. Obviously Remnant Ashurn had contact with this woman, and it was within his best interest to keep talking simple, at least till he could gather enough info as to not make an ass out of himself. Speaking of gathering intel, his eyes scanned her chest for a name tag. Just as he found her name is **Sequoia** **Cherry** , she coughed to get his attention.

"You know it's rude to stare at a lady while she's talking… unless you of course forgot her name?" She fluttered her eyes, as her speech laid a trap. Either he was caught staring at her front bumpers or he forgot her name.

'Two social no no's with a catch twenty two. Clever.' "Did you not also have a bit trouble remembering mine?"

Sequoia giggled a bit, the practiced smile dropped, and softened to a beautiful one. "Say you talk a bit differently, you know that? Well suppose that's fair enough. Sequoia Cherry's the name. Please met you again Ash."

"Ashurn Ormolu Klay. Likewise. And please don't shorten my first name." the Faunus requested. Sequoia only giggled more.

"'Pose you're still got the same sore spot. Well". she reached under her station and pulled out a key that read, **13D**. "Here you go sugar. Thirteen D as promised." She threw into his grasp. "Don't have too much fun down there hun." She closed in and purred "At least not without me."

Ashurn stiffened in place, not entirely sure how to approach this. Well he's was prepared for most things, but this certainly wasn't one. He found himself questioning just how to go about socializing with people Ashurn knew, but he didn't. Apparently Sequoia noticed his hesitation, and pushed the offensive. "Oh hun don't disappoint. Last time you were here, You made this belle ring like a Sunday morin' service."

'Fifty bucks says Remnant Ashurn flirted with her just to screw with me, when I took over the helm. Douche. Well better do my best.' "Does it ring for the man who tolls it? Or… perhaps for the motion of his lotion. If you catch my drift..." '…kill me…' Flirting wasn't exactly his strong suit.

That got her busting her gut. " Pffft-GWAHAhAhAHAHAHAhaHa!" Well if nothing else laughter was a hell of a constellation prize. Bonus points since the sultry siren before him began snorting a bit. "I can't believe you said that!" She managed between gasps. "I don't know if that was the dumbest thing I ever heard or the funniest!" was her conclusion wiping inadvertently made tears.

Ashurn waved a nonchalant hand. "Meh I shoot for a twenty five to seventy five ratio."

After a solid minute of her getting her kicks and him languishing in a health dose of shame. She finally finished and waved him off. "Hehe alright Casanova, I've taken too much of your time. Best scurry on now, ya hear?" Ashurn turn-tailed and trekked as fast has a hasty heel-toe could, especially when he heard her giggling to herself "motion of his lotion, sug's a riot." Thankfully his atomic red, embarrassed expression was hidden under his face wrap.

'…Damn you Ashurn. Damn you to the torture of teeth of ninth circle of the Inferno...'

-Room 13-D,Friendly Fire Range and Practice Field-

Finding the room designated for his key, the eagle Faunus open the door to a room the size of three tennis courts lined up length-wise. Only about a third was accessible, as the other two thirds were a gun range littered with pop up targets. The accessible side was further split into a sight right out of an MMA gym, except with dummies of not only humans, but also werewolves, large boars, a bear of all things… 'Who the fuck is dumb enough to wrestle a bear, unless they're Spetznaz or something. Serious those guys are well trained to the point of absurd, literally till it becomes counterintuitive to the trainee surviving… Oh ancestors help me… does that mean I have to as well…'

Just as he pushed that scary idea out his ear, it caught something else.

 **Z *** **Ring tone- Jojo's Bizarre Adventure- Pillar men theme** ***Z**

He suppose he should just call this screen on his arm a Holo-Scroll or whatever Penny had called it. **'** Oh hey I still have the same ringtone. Guess I didn't noticed this morning. Hope it's Penny.' "Hello?"

 **Z Hey buddy! Z**

If only he'd be so lucky. Ah well. "Hello…Actually… I never got your name or even what to refer to you has."

 **Z Doesn't really matter since you won't be talking to anyone about me. Z**

Ashurn didn't need to be told twice. Penny couldn't see the quest notification even with it right in front of her face. Were he stupid enough to start babbling about these "game" elements without proof, he'd find himself a nice cushy room in a straight jacket.

 **Z Still I guess it is a bit awkward not knowing what to call someone. Call me Tut- NO wait! I got it. Call me Actual. Z**

"Military designation code names? You want me to string a few number with it to make it sound cooler?"

 **Z Nah its fine. Anyway time for the combat tutorial to get this over with, ready? Z**

Henodded, out of habit more than anything else, then realized the gesture was useless and said "Ready."

His Holo-Scroll projection shifted off his arm and before his face and expanded like a internet browser pop up. 'Not to self have fun with this later.'

 **Z Ok so we got you some weapons, and looks like you got your donor's outfit… more or less, but now is the time where we go over the basics. Head over to the terminal at the firing range, and load up "Training_Procedure_A_OK_1" all with underscores in between except between O and K. Z**

Ashurn scanned the tabletop that separated the range from the third of the room he was in. In the middle, he found a monochromatic red screen, and analog keyboard. Typing in the right procedure, registered with the range. The prone wooden targets began flipping upward and stood for a few seconds to a dozen, before rescinding back. 'More werewolves, pigs, and bears?' He asked himself. What was more surprising was their color scheme. Each animal had black fur, red eyes, and bony masks covering their faces. Some had white bone scales and spines scattered thought out their bodies.

Before, he could dwell upon it more Actual interrupted. **Z Take a good long look kiddo, these ugly mugs will be snarling at you for the duration you stay alive, or just eat you. Which ever comes first. But first, let's see you where we stand. Let's check out that Glock! Z** he said in mock enthusiasm.

 **Item: Glock 18 machine pistol (UM original variant)**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Weapon type: Sidearm**

 **Material: "Ultimatum" alloy, Titanium, Rubber, Various Synthetics, Various trace amounts of Dust alloys.**

 **Manufacturer(s): Ultra Munitions inc.,**

 **Modifications :n/a**

 **Description: A handgun infamously capable of burst and full auto functions. A tactical rail comes standard with all models. This weapon's design has been stolen and copied many times over. Today's examples however pale in comparison to the eldest model line. This example is part of the original batch where quality took precedence over affordability. Maintenance beyond basic cleaning is next to unnecessary, even models free of debris made a hundred years ago still operate as well has they did off the factory line.**

 **This Variant can hold four picatinny blocks.**

 **Standard magazines hold (15) (9x19) rounds.**

"A hundred years ago?"

 **Z Yep, kid forget whatever you think know about things. Just cause things like Glock pistols exist both here and back at your home reality doesn't make them the same. But you'll figure that out on your own time. Now you can't shoot anything without ammunition, we better head on over to the store on your scroll and get a promotion my higher ups are posting. Z**

His scroll turned to the **Store** page which looked more or less the same except for a red banner on the top. That read…

 **Limited time offer! Glock 18 starter training pack.**

 **-12x G17 standard magazines**

 **-6x Red Eagle 9x19 Pistole Parabellum (thirty rounds each pack)**

 **Price: Free**

 **Buy?**

As soon as he pressed the buy button another prompt appeared.

 **Thank you for you patronage.**

 **View in Inventory or Close window?**

Ashurn chose to to see his new purchases. Now in his inventory now is the icon of grey-black bars and a red box with a black eagle carrying the brand name; Red Eagle. However each held a multiple twelve and six respectively. 'So item stacking is a thing here. At least for similar items.' Another window propped itself. 'I wonder if I can get an ad blocker for this…'

 **Z Alright, alright! Now we're cooking with firepower. Now normally people gotta slide each slug into the mag one at at time. Not you bud! Select the bullets or magazines, and press combine. Then combine the two. Z**

He followed Actual's advice. And selected the magazine stack.

 **Equip**

 **Move**

 **Combine**

 **Examine**

 **Drop**

 **Sell**

The Faunus selected the combine option which highlighted the magazines and asked **With what?** And he answered selecting the bullet pack. After a split second loading screen the magazine stack icon had a noticeable bit of brass coming out the top and the red box of pistol rounds was no where in sight. He chose to examine the newly filled magazines

 **Item: Glock 17 machine pistol stock magazine (MiB variant)**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Item type: Fire arm part**

 **Material: Steel**

 **Manufacturer(s): Men in Black co.**

 **Modifications :n/a**

 **Description: Standard magazines for a (Glock 17 or compatible) that holds (15) (9x19) rounds.**

 **Status: 15/15**

 **Z Perfect, now you know just about everything you need about your inventory. Master it's uses and you just may live to twenty one. Remember "The sinews of war is infinite money." Take time to manage and managing your stuff and it won't fail you. But enough of this logistical jazz. Let's shoot some faces!** Again he said with mock enthusiasm.

Ashurn spawned his Glock and a magazine. Who knew wasting time watching YouTube videos on gun safety would work to his advantage? He made damn sure the safety was engaged, and cocked back the slide to examine the chamber to confirm it was empty. Sure of it was cold, he examined the weapon the Faunus was to stake his life on. Like Glocks back home, the upper slide was almost a block shape, sights withstanding. The trigger guard's front was texturizing to alleviate the concern of a trigger finger slipping when one is suppose to extend their index when not ready for use. The Fire mode switch had three settings, a single dot for semi automatic, a three for three round burst, and a string of dots for full automatic. The grip was coated in a thin layer of rubber, that made it almost melt to ergonomically fit his gloved hands. Probably due to the small rubber blocks that lined the front and back of the grip.

 **Z A'ight lets load up aim for the target in front of you. Z**

Responding promptly, he slide in the mag with a confirmatory click, and pulled the slide released. Finally taking it of safe, he reminded himself "Weapons hot." He then took a moment to line up the sights on to center mass of the werewolf silhouette and squeezed.

What was fractions of a second, felt like hours of anticipation, that felling where you know something is going to happen, but just weren't sure when the trigger hit that threshold. His arm bucked a tad from the recoil. It had been more than he anticipated, but then again he had nothing really to compare it to. He suppose, if he could describe this new experience, it was like someone had jerked the gun back a bit.

The sudden explosion still made him flinch when he heard it for the first time. But he squeezed again, and again, and just one more time. Next thing he knew, he had emptied the mag, when the slide locked back. There was a joy in the hand full of hellfire he had. He knew full well just cause he handled a pistol for five minutes, it didn't make him invincible, but for a moment he just enjoyed the feeling. He never got the chance to shoot fire arms back home. His family forbade it , gun shy because of the war that spelled disaster for his family, which is why they found themselves in America. To think this was what had robbed his clan and forced them to immigrate, but that was just a tangent.

 **Z You seem to be having fun. Congrats you're ability to shoot stationary wood, as ensured the continued survival of civilization. Well let's see how well you shoot. Z**

The werewolf target he'd been pelting with nine millimeters suddenly light up red, and a to scale screen popped up to display his bullet placements.

 **Z Whooo, now that's what I like to see! Half inch grouping at thirty yards. Though I suspect that's cause of that nifty body you inherited, especially those eyes, but hey still got to give you some credit. A'ight time to put away the Glock, now it's time for the Bizon. Z**

Ashurn double checked the Glock to make sure it was empty, before deconstructing it. Bringing up his menu he examined the next gun.

 **Item: Izhmash PP-19 Bizon**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Weapon type: Sub-machine gun**

 **Material: "Ultimatum" alloy, Titanium, Rubber, Various Synthetics, Various trace amounts of Dust alloys.**

 **Manufacturer(s): Ultra Munitions inc.,**

 **Modifications :n/a**

 **Description: A sub-machine gun variant to the venerable Ak design. This carbine, was infamously used in swarm tactics. Prototypes were designed without launcher, but a forty millimeter launcher comes as standard to all production models. Such was used for launching tear gas or smoke grenades, or if necessary fragmentation rounds. This combined with the large magazine capacity made well for fighting large quantities of relatively vulnerable targets. This made it ideal for the security and police uses, such as the Storm Garrison of Menagerie. To this day, this weapon has some taboo, being associated with the Garrison forces.**

 **This Variant can hold six picatinny blocks.**

 **Standard magazines hold (64) (9x19)rounds.**

 **Standard magazines hold (1) (40mm) grenade.**

White light weave themselves into a frame, until he could feel the weight in his hands. The PP-19 Bizon had a skeletal frame stock, but with a cheek rest modeled after the heat shield of an M249 machine gun. Its entire frame was stamped metal and riveted. The pistol grip was, like the Glock covered in rubber. It's top receiver was the classic elongated mound like metal plate look on all weapons of the same internal action. Slung underneath the front half was its infamous helical Feds tubular magazine, which doubled as a fore grip as grooves ribbed the full length of it. There was a hole in the front, undoubtedly for those grenades mentioned in the item description. Just over the mag was a synthetic heat shield with six exhausts, three on each side. The shield also partially housed the front sight, and the barrel was tipped with a funnel shaped compensator.

'Woah its almost heavier than my airsoft M249 back home.' Thought Ashurn as he felt its mass

 **Z Well you know the drill, get that promotion, load it up, and get to shooting. Z**

Following instructions, Ashurn went though the motions, buy the free stuff,

 **Limited time offer! Bizon starter training pack.**

 **-3x PP-19 standard magazines**

 **-7x Red Eagle 9x19 Pistole Parabellum (thirty rounds each pack)**

 **-2x 40mm Fragmentation grenade**

 **-1x 40mm Smoke grenade**

 **Price: Free**

 **Buy?**

And combine in inventory to load up, with eighteen spare bullets sitting in his inventory right next to the grenades. The newcomer to Remnant topped off the empty mag on the gun and slide in the a full one, fresh into existence from his hammer space. Felling, just a bit less jumpy about the explosions guns make, Ashurn was now comfortably pelting the bear target fifty yards away in semi auto fashion. Then he tried burst of three or four till the mag went dry, and his weapon was left clicking, Like before he activated the target suing the keyboard. It showed he hit the target with all sixty four bullets in another half inch grouping.

'This seems a bit too good for a complete newcomer to shooting… Why am I hitting all of my shots? Including the first ones? Actually I can almost see where the bullet is going and make arrangements for the next shot never thought I could do that. Something new with the Faunus body?...Wait! Eyes! Both other me in his letter and Actual mention his- My eyes! Maybe Eagle Faunus are just naturally good shots. Ashurn did mention they held a surprise, maybe this is what he meant.'

His thought bubble burst, when hisHolo-scroll rang with Actual's voice.

 **Z Seems you got that gun down for now. Good work. Ok now I want you to bring the Glock out again. Z**

Ashurn followed orders, used to it by now.

 **Z Now point it to your temple. Z**

"Woah woah woah wait! What the hell? I'm not doing that!"

 **Z You want to learn? Or what? You want to survive follow my instructions. Z** Actual's voice bellowed louder than anytime before.

Ashurn for a moment was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Deciding promptly there was possible way out, he put the gun to his head, with the safety engaged. This had to be a joke right? A sick one, but a joke none the less. Actual was just messing with him. He wouldn't actually make him shoot himself. Right?

 **Z Disengage. The. Safety. Z**

Ashurn put the weapon aside " No nonono, fuck that and fuck you, I am not doing that."

 **Z Look this is important. If you don't trust the information, You won't be able to survive Remnant. You need to know how Aura works. Z**

"I don't give a shit whatever Aura is. I. Am. Not. Shooting myself! This some kind of sick joke to you! Is my life just some kind of entertainment to you?!"

 **Z FINE! You know what, you materials, are just specks in the scheme of things anyway! "Aura is the manifestation of the soul, it protects from fatal injuries and can manifest as a unique power called a semblance." THERE! Tutorial over! "Congrats on the new lot in life." Yadda yadda. Hope the Grimm eat you for ruining my fun, cause you can eat my ass. Z**

The screen closed the call window, leaving Ashurn with his **Health** tab. The room was dead silent, he was left completely bewildered at how things had just escalated for just a few seconds. His head still yet to work out the fact he had just had an argument with the only entity that could explain his supernatural situation. Then it hit him, like a war-hammer crushing his skull. He felt betrayed. He felt foolish. He had been trusting someone who at best could be described as disgruntled employee, a person's who didn't care for what Ashurn could only assume was his day job. Actual couldn't care less to do it just because he could get someone killed. He felt dumb for assuming a voice talking to him with such disregard to his situation, had any interest in his well being. Empty was all he felt has he collapsed in place, retreating to his thoughts.

'What just happened? It had all been going so well… where did it go wrong? Was it his fault? Was it Actual's? What…what…what is going on here? Is this real? Am I dreaming? Am I still asleep? Is this just a dream? I just played too many video games, right? Now I'm just dreaming of living though a tutorial…'

He had just been going though the motions. Whatever was happening, special circumstances or otherwise, something was there to explain it. That grounded him for the most part. Where was he now? Remnant. Why did this happen? Cause he signed a contract. With the exception of befriending Penny, everything he had been doing only because he couldn't do anything else. There was no family to explain this. There wasn't any friends he could confine in. Without them and now, without Actual, he was alone. Alone to stew in the suppressed turmoil, he had so vindictively quashed since this morning, under the guise of everything would work out soon. Ashurn didn't take well being alone with his thoughts. Normally doing so was no problem, but in circumstances where he found himself cornered, or breaking under pressure, his wandering mind wouldn't let up the questions. The questions that would bury him, that would deteriorate him.

'Am…am…am I going crazy? Was he just messing with me, or trying to get me to shoot myself? Am I imagining this...this feels so real! I know I'm not home, I'm not in bed! I'm at a firing range! I'm in my airsoft outfit! I was just shooting guns just now! I can't dream of something so real if I never experienced it before. I just…just…don't know what to do…' Ashurn began to shrink in on himself, perhaps in a vague attempt to wake up. He didn't even know what he was doing, lying about on the ground. 'I don't want to be here…I just wanted to go home.' He could imagine it, you know. He'd wake stiff, in a bundle of blanket at noon or later. A call would come in reprimanding him for oversleeping. He could just go eat breakfast or lunch and go about his day. All would be the same, all would be right. But nothing was right about this situation.

Suddenly Ashurn felt weightless. Instinct took over and he threw his arms to the sides to reach for something, anything that would break his fall backwards. Were he so lucky. Everything was enveloped in black and red mist. 'Maybe this is a hallucination.' Almost as quickly as his ordeal began, it ended.

At first he was confused when he landed softly. The concrete floor of Friendly Fire was now replaced with soft cotton he was all too familiar with. His blankets. One hundred percent cottons worth of blue stripes greeted him has he blinked, just to be sure his eyes were still working. He didn't wake up. He just fell… though the ground… and landed back home?

"What the fuck?" Was the most intelligent response he could make. For floating half a meter above his bed was a silent swirling vortex of black and red mist. It took him a moment to realized what had happened. This…portal? Ok portal spawned underneath him while in Friendly Fire. He fell though and ended up back in his room.

Curiosity got the better of Ashurn, as he gingerly extended his left, less dominant hand forward, towards the ethereal phenomenon. He fell though didn't he? That means it was 'safe', relatively speaking, to come to contact with. Seeing his arm go though without issue, gradually he sat up, as to fit his whole upper body though. Like a prairie dog, his top half erected from an identical portal, but this one was back in room thirteen-d. Placing his hands to either side, he lifted the rest of his body out of the whirlpool, and sat his ass down on Friendly fire's floor. The misty portal closed up.

Ashurn took to digest all this new information: the portals, Actual's rant- 'Wait he said something important there didn't he? Unique power… so portals are my re- no wait that's wrong, Semblance? Was it semblance?'

On mental command, another smaller portal came into being before him, as well as a smaller twin off some distance on the wall. More confident, he slipped his arm into its maw, only for it to come out of the other on the wall. Ashurn then flipped the bird, just to make sure it was his.

'… I'm going on the assumption this portal thing is my "semblance". So it's the manifestation of…Aura? Pretty sure that's it, which protects against fatal injuries…' Taking a deep breathe before sighing, the Faunus stood up. 'There's no help for Actual from here. From here I gotta do things myself.'

-Five minutes later,Room 13-D, Friendly Fire Range and Practice Field-

'… this is hands down the dumbest thing I had ever done…' Ashurn thought as he pointed his Glock just barely off the sleeved arm. 'I mean it's right up there with the shaving cream incident, that shameful display with Sequoia or that time I stole that guys phone, to call a sex line, and get him in trouble with his girlfriend.'

He had been holding this position for the past five minutes, very, very unsure if this was the right action. On one hand the fact he could make portal out of thin air, made him just a bit more liable to believe in this Aura stuff. On the other hand, he was still about to shoot himself in the arm. Still he didn't want to go from word of mouth, especially since it was clear, Actual didn't give that much of a shit about him. He had to be sure.

He didn't know when he pulled the trigger if he consciously did so, maybe he was just tired of holding the same position, and his finger slipped. Getting shot for the first time wasn't as he expected. A police officer that came to talk to his class for the DARE program had described it as getting stabbed with a hot knife. That wasn't what he felt at all; it was more like someone had flicked his forearm. Only a light tap, noticeable, but not enough to warrant any issue. He brought up his **Health** page up to see the blue bar. During his five minute self imposed Mexican standoff, he had put two and two together. As a fan and player of Halo, blue bar equals rechargeable shields. Now just a bit had been shaved off the bar. If he had to pin a number to it, he'd say like quarter percent or so. It could be because it was a glancing shot, but the pain was only momentary. Inspecting his forearm, it was completely unscathed. Not a bruise, no cut, his coat's sleeve wasn't even nicked.

"Holy crap…I'm bullet proof, to a degree." 'Note to self, exercise the limits of this Aura stuff.' Ashurn for the most part got over that episode from before. Perhaps it was just pigheaded stubbornness, but now was a time of learning, and like school, though it was stressful, he didn't have time to lay about feeling sorry for wide open world at large, would be dangerous as described by Actual and Remnant Ashurn. If he hoped to survive he better-

*grumble grumble*

… He better get something to eat to placate the rebellion in his abdomen. Taking eye to his Holo-scroll, it was well past noon. Add to that his breakfast was only subpar. Changing over to the scroll functionalities, and accessing the internet to look up a place nearby to get some food.

'Authentic West Mistral Cuisine? Vacuo Oasis Dinner? Classic style dishes of the Vale Homestead?' Turns out most advertising wasn't exactly helping Ashurn determine the meal to suit his palate. Aside from the horrid puns some establishments had from brand names,'Seriously who drinks at a place called the Crowbar.', the places to eat offered food he had no knowledge of. Picture helped, but anyone with half a brain knows, the pictures were of only the very best examples. What was sold was far lower in quality. 'Well there's only one way of solving this. Eeny, meeny, miny…'

-Thirty minutes later, Hoo's Happy Sashimi-

After leaving the key to Thirteen D with Sequoia, "Come back soon Sug!", Ashurn made for the market before he set off, he made sure he could spawn his money from his inventory like his guns. Confirming this, the dimensional newcomer made for the market district. Almost has he crossed the district line, deteriorating buildings gave way to nicer ones. The dirty and downtrodden gradually disappeared and in their place were a variety of people of every description milling about living their own lives. Literally Ashurn couldn't describe anyone without leaving out the rest. Most wore simple modern t shirts and pants, while handfuls of others look more like cosplayers, as if there was a city wide anime fair he wasn't aware of. Some Victorian style dresses, Manchu style jackets, Greek Togas, if one could name any style of clothes, at least a handful of the people are in it. Combined with the overload of city signs, outrageous fashion, and bustle, all of it just meshed together to the point Ashurn could put a word to what he spent twenty minutes walking though. He just focused on the address in his head and on the street signs. His stomach kicking his spine all the way didn't help.

Hoo's Happy Sashimi,…

"IT'S A FUCK MOTHERING PUN!" He yelled loudly in public as the Faunus just realized it. Much to chagrin of some passing mothers, that glared at him, holding their hands over their kids ears.

Hoo's Happy Sashimi, was advertised as 'having every dish known on the east coast of Anima', toting about authentic Eastern Mistral cuisine . Whatever that meant, Ashurn's eyes told him more than just a paid ad did. Upon entering, It was clear the place was heavily related to Asian culture. Aside of its concrete exterior, the inside was filled to the brim with eastern décor. A mock river ran though the middle of the restaurant filled with koi. Feeding into it, the waterfall made soothing noise has it collided to the waiting pool. Rice paper walls gave each table, seating two to twelve, their own privacy. Walls were decked with ceiling to floor murals of Samurai fighting what looked like Hoplites, exotically dressed women dancing, and a handful of what looked like Shaolin warrior monks defeating a horde of bears. The very same depicted in target form back at Friendly Fire. Black fur, bone armor and all.

'Place's expensive. Atmosphere like this doesn't come cheap.' The restaurant was sparsely filled. Not much of a surprise, it came off as more of a dinner kind of place, and he was just earlier than the late noon rush.

"Irasshaimase!" The greeter warmly welcomed when he noticed Ashurn waiting to be seated.

His greeter was portly man of the name of Mr. Yǔlù Hoo, according to his name tag. If Ashurn had to guess he was in his late fifties, based on the grey hair at his side burns, that reminded him of his own father's. His face held shape features, and despite his chef's attire, One could see rippling muscle underneath it all, with the exception of a jiggling belly. Mr Yǔlù seemed to be a well trimmed man of pleasant disposition, though that may just be for the customers. It may just be personal opinion, but to the eagle Faunus, this was offset by his strange dark green hair, and just as green eyes. He's faded yellow chef attire was peppered in small dots of sauces and seasoning, something that gave Ashurn hope for the place.

Going off on a limb, The diner decided to take a shot in the dark. Just to test the waters of this brave new world he found himself in. He bowed respectively and said. "谢谢你的好意.(Thank you for your kindness.)"

This took the owner by surprise and he responded. "哦! 你说普古老语言? 很好!" (Oh! You speak in the old tongue? Very good!)

"哪里哪里! 我说一点儿. (Not at all! I speak very little!) and I much prefer speaking like this."

Mr. Yǔlù smiled and offered. "I can tell. The first sentence was a little off. Never knew any one in the city still spoke the old tongue. Few adults do. Even fewer kids do."

Keeping the conversation going Ashurn replied with "A damn shame too. I spoke it so well when I was a child, but lost it when I had no one else to speak to growing up."

Mr Hoo nodded and looked to continue on, but was suddenly struck with a revelation. "Oh! Pardon me, you're probably here for some lunch right? Let's get you situated before we go on like gossiping hens." Gesturing to his customer to follow him, with a menu in hand he found a suitable table.

It may have been personal conjecture, but Ashurn's table was probably the best in the spot in the whole joint. Situated in the back by the kitchen, his table got immediate service. From his seat, he got the best angle of the river that bisect the restaurant, as if it swayed like a mesmerizing serpent that danced to his whim. Add to this atmosphere, he was right next to the waterfall, giving the Faunus in the Russian coat, a constant pleasant bit of soothing white noise. Mr Hoo had left him with a menu and the assurance a waitress would take his order whenever he was ready. The owner went off to greet more customers, leaving guy in Russian winter attire to ponder his choices. Oh ponder he did.

'Pho? Chunjuan? Mandu? Tempera? That's Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, and Japanese. Seems like Eastern Mistral food is Asian.' Flipping though the menu confirmed Ashurn's hypothesis. Everything here was in some way some form of Asian cuisine. Just looking at the noodle section alone told him well enough. It listed Udon, Soba, Myron, Mein, Fun, etc.

Taking a note to himself in his own fathers word, 'Mistral (Asian) food is the best choice of food as of right now' he looked though to decide what to have now. 'Something heavy and plentiful. Today's been pretty bad. Well except for Penny. Godspeed that girl really knows how to lift a guy's mood.' To Ashurn ,heavy meant things he really enjoyed, enough to polish the plate: shellfish. Normally Ashurn's family would dine of everything between stir fried vegetables to salmon as regular items, with a side of rice of course. But when they really wanted exquisite, his family would either barbecue large quantities of seasoned meats or shellfish to indulge in. Finally he set us eyes on something that would suit his tastes.

With his order no longer a concern, the eagle Faunus in the Russian getup took time to go over what he had learned from his short interaction with Mr Hoo. 'So Mistral or at least the east part of it is heavily similar to Asian culture. Mr Hoo reminds me a lot of dad and the people both of them interacted with. People with pride in their cultural traditions and favored those with an interest in them, especially with manners. The more things change, the more they stay the same I suppose.'

"Are you ready to order?" Asked a feminine voice, breaking his line of thought.

Ashurn turned to his waitress. Like Mr. Hoo, she sported his green eyes as well as his green, albeit darker and much longer, hair, though bound in a fish net bun. A part of her working uniform of a white work dress and apron. Her angular face shaped a small professional smile, much like Sequoia's from Friendly Fire.

"I'll have the Seafood Fried rice please Ms..."

"Yùyán, Yùyán Hoo, Most just call me Jade though, since that is what it means. Most folks here can't say it right."

"Which do you prefer?"

"Jade, if you please." She gave, dotting his order onto a notepad with pencil. "We'll have it out momentarily. Thank you for you patience."

And so Ashurn was left to his own devices once more, pondering more to take up time that's being productive. It didn't matter much anyway, since a half a dozen or so tattooed men in suits walked in the door.

Each of them carrying Sub-machine guns and shotguns.

AN:…. Well shit ain't we in a pickle. Just before lunch too.

Still waiting in a better name suggestion. If anyone wants to know more about the story to help me make one, just shoot me PM.

Remember, Read and Review. I can only get better, when someone tells me what needs to be improved. Thanks for reading and have a good day.

Umm I think that's it….

…

…

Gonorrhea.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY or any publicly recognizable properties nor do I make money from this. Seriously does anyone on this site own anything?

AN: The bane of my existence Calculus two… blame that for my poor update time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have memories to repress with head smashing.

Sentence

"Talk"

'Thought'

*Sound*

-Place-

 **Z Electronic voice Z**

 **Document/Text**

-Hoo's Happy Sashimi-

Ashurn couldn't help himself in sliding down as far as he could, making himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. He felt like a kid caught up in his parents arguing, only with a deadly edge, cause of the guns present. His hand slid into his coat zipper, and spawned his G18, just in case things escalated. Making sure it was loaded and hot, he turned to what was transpiring. The line of armed gunmen were clad in formal attire. Each were wearing dress shoes, business slacks, dress shirt, and jacket, the full nine yards of monkey suit. One was in a red dress shirt underneath, three wore shades of blue, and two had purple. One of the purple ones had a black tactical vest on though. Three held double barrel shotguns, two held what looked like MP5Ks, and the one with the vest just had a handgun.

Mr Hoo dropped the smile and turned red with anger almost upon seeing them. Out of the line of six thugs in suits, one came forward, the one with the vest and purple shirt, and began pointing and shouting. He could hear what was being said, but didn't understand what was being said. Either they were arguing in French or Vietnamese or some mix of the two. Mr Hoo apparently had not qualm with shouting at six armed gunmen not three meters away. After a handful of seconds, things seem to get out of control. Voices raised to their breaking point, and tempers flared. As Mr Hoo slammed his hands on the counter to make some final point, the apparent leader snapped his fingers. On command one of the shot gunners blasted Mr Hoo backwards. The heavy set man hit the ground with a loud thud, and from the kitchen a woman, most likely the waitress, screamed in horror.

'Christ!' Ashurn acted quickly and ducked underneath his table, as he was in plain view, should they turn his way. The table cloth keep most of his body out of view, while the shadow it cast should do the rest, besides no one checks under every table. Sure enough the dress shoes of the six assailants began pitter-patting. From under the table Ashurn could see five make their way to the kitchen next, the last one he had no idea, where he was.

His breath caught in his throat, adrenaline began to pump though his system. It didn't exactly help since he was suppose to stay calm. His feet felt jittery, trying their best to move, while his mind forced them from making too much noise. His fingers flexed over his pistol, oddly eager to go loud. 'Heh, no different from airsoft, keep your head down, keep moving, utilize cover, never be without it cover for two seconds when moving, and never assume your cover will protect you forever.' Ashurn recalled the war games he played in hopes it would aid him. Strange since he wasn't panicking nearly as much as he thought he should.

Something was niggling the back of his mind. Whatever it was he suppressed it. He concluded it was just some stress. That was natural being forced into a sudden combat situation. It was trying to propel him forward, into the fray. 'Not yet!' He reminded himself. He had to identify where the sixth is before acting. This idea proved moot, when he could hear what he assumed was the waitress whimpering. He could hear her heels just off his left, adjusting in place, sure enough he could see her white stockings, as she was on her knees. He couldn't understand her speech, in the same language as the argument from before, but he didn't need to be told what begging for your life was.

Ashurn's lungs took on thick air. He felt what was suppose to be milliseconds turned to tense hours as he twisted his body, tucking his elbow beneath his chest, and using his knees to gain more ground, to get to the woman in need of help. Finally he found his position, one leg bent with his foot to a table leg, to spring him outward. He found his cue when the men started laughing. There was only one way this would go. 'Them or her. Them or me...' without meaning to, pressure built at the back of his nostrils, leaving a faint hiss.

With a quick extension of his leg, his body slid right in front of the one taunting Jade. As soon as he say the whites of his eyes he began to unload. Five shots rang out. Four seemed to stop dead in the air before him breaking the invisible barrier he had. The last hit home the man shrieked in pain and fell over. With his free hand, the eagle Faunus took his shotgun by the barrel, and ripped it from its owner. He slid it underneath the table in case the other gangsters wanted to use it. Keeping his head down, he ran as fast as he could to a new spot, by the river. Finding a perfect line of sight to of the men holding one of the SMGs. He had heard Ashurn's shots, and was panicking, trying to find what was going on.

His gun went in every direction, even the ceiling, as the ceiling would pounce on him. Ashurn knew he was dealing with idiots, or at least some of them were. Nonetheless, and idiot with a gun was probably a bigger danger, as they showed no hesitation in shooting Mr Hoo. Unfortunate for the hunter, Ashurn renounced him to prey. Taking advantage of his vantage of the element of surprise, he popped a bullet into this ones head. It was so easy. So very easy. Fool didn't have aura like the other. Just then another hurried over to his comrade, the one Ashurn had just put down. He dropped his weapon and tried to help him up. Just as he reared his head back up, The predator on the prowl, lined up his sights on it and squeezed. Ashurn could almost see the bullet leave his gun. It spiraled, cutting though the air before blowing out a hole into the man's cheek, leaving a festive cloud of red mist.

The thug recoiled a bit before crumbling to the ground in a heap with his buddy. A crimson tide pooled around the bodies, for a moment mesmerizing the Faunus, as if the sight warranted satisfaction of a kind. That feeling he dismissed as nerves returned. The propelling force that demanded him to keep on the move, keep on the prowl. The situation has yet to end. More blood would carry him, more would ensure the life of the waitress caught in the crossfire, as well as his own. It would satiate this smoldering in his hide. Thoughts evaporate from his mind, occupy by the niggling sensation. It demand more! It demand to act! It demand for predation.

Ashurn is not rejecting its proposal. Beneath his face wrap, his teeth were barred. His throat agitated, releasing a low animalistic snarl. Ashurn wasn't overtly concern with it, chalking it up to nerves. Just his Faunus body running high on the rush, most likely. He dismiss this as fight or flight, nothing more.

"Hey!" was yelled out off to his right. Ashurn took no time to duck his head and scurried pass to the obstructing view of rice paper walls. Automatic fire filled the room like a Chinese New Year celebration, smoke, loud popping, and the smell of powder discharge. Rounds rips and blasted their way though rice paper, wood, and furnishing. The Faunus knew from his days airsofting, once again, he was dealing with an idiot. No one announces to their enemy when to shoot, especially when it gave away his position. The metallic clicking of cold firing pin certain didn't help its owner. It echoed as sweet muses to the awaiting Eagle Faunus, like a dinner bell to a starved hound. With the purpose great white shark caught in a whiff of blood, he sidestepped in and around the furniture, with his footsteps as his approaching theme. It didn't matter how much noise he made, the thug was a sitting duck.

Ashurn drew his kukri from his inventory, and found a straight beeline, between the tables to his target. He was fumbling with a fresh banana magazine, trying to fit it in the mag well with his nerves working against him. The unfortunate soul widen his eyes has the Faunus made like hell on wheels right on top of him. The Faunus began making sharp animalistic growls as the wrestled his game for just the right opportunity.

Ashurn cried a inhuman hissing snarl, slashing into his target like a lion. The poor soul crossed his arms in again attempt to stave off the starved animal on him. Aura protected his arms from harm, but only until his executioner wilted them down. The invisible barrier of the tattooed thug faded under the assault. Finding uselessness in the flailing of his game, Ashurn secured one of his arms and yanked it into the other, pinning it. Like the reaper, the Faunus lifted his bent blade over his head.

"No!" His victim screamed as it came down. It had taken a few strikes, but Ashurn managed to break though his prey's aura and get at the squish meat underneath. In the blur of the moment, he could only say for sure his blade tasted blood. He neither knew the how or the why, it just wanted more. He didn't even know what that it refer to. His blade cut into his victim's flesh. All of his flesh, if it wasn't torn apart, it was reared to ground beef. Ashurn stood up from the still warm body he'd mutilated. His head twitch very now and again. Just the firing of panic nerves, he felt. No thoughts occupied his mind, just the pressure in his mind. Now it was scratching his mental facilities, driving them somewhere, pushing towards…

He didn't get to finish analyzing this, for the leader of the gang jumped him. Leaped on his back, the mobster produced a knife, a fairly long flip stiletto.

"You piece of shit! You fucking psycho!" He yelled right next to Ashurn's ear. The ambushed Faunus flailed left and right, swung in place, anything to wrench his back humper off. His efforts doubled as he had to restrain the knife the thug had tried to puncture his neck with. The Faunus's finger bound tight around his attackers wrist, uncompromising. They struggled and struggled. The rider tried everything to plunge his weapon's tip into his victim's jugular. The gang member grit his teeth to hold on tight to the bucking bronco Faunus, while it let loose animalistic cries of anger and desperation from its dry throat.

"Boy!" cried out the voice of the owner, Mr. Hoo. "Stand still!"

Instinctually, the foreign influence on his mind was gone. Gone was the bloodlust, as his mind reestablished thoughts over instinct . For a moment, he was no longer Ashurn the Eagle Faunus. He was just then Harvest again. His parents always referred to him as their "boy", affectionately, with their limited English pronunciation.

This pause might've meant the end for Ashurn, but the gangster on his back didn't have time to slit his throat. A round of buck shot hit gang leader squarely on the back of his head, stunning him. Then another came, and another volley of shot broke his Aura. A final pull of the trigger, turned the back of his head and the nape of his neck to a clay pigeon made of burger filling.

Ashurn's shoulders lighted from the lame body of his attacker. Falling to the ground, the bloody rag-doll thudded, snapping the Faunus out of his stupor. 'What was just… Holy shit!'

He called out. "Mr. Hoo! But how did…oh…Aura…right." He suppose he got so caught up in the situation, he either didn't have the time to question if the restauranteur had Aura or was alright. He completely forgot Aura was protecting him as well. The knife he'd work so hard against probably wouldn't done anything to him, unless, stuck into his jugular with unfathomable force. He was mostly occupied on keeping his life , as well has the well being of the wait-

"HELP!" Snapped the two's attention to its source, the waitress, Jade, being held from behind with the last thug. He had a dagger to her neck. It shook, in rhythm with its wielder, jelly legged and raddled.

"You! You two stay away from me!" Demanded the thug, his face drenched in nervous sweat. Ashurn honestly prayed his loose grip on the knife didn't slip from equally wet palms and into Jade. "I'm going to leave. Don't try and stop me or I'll kill the bitch. I swear. Don't test me."

Evidently Mr Hoo spoke for the two of them. Or rather yelled. "You bastard! You come to my business, bully my family into to pay for "protection", and now you take my daughter hostage! No place hell, you'll get away." He tried to close in, perhaps out of desperation rather than practical intent. He petrified in place, as the knife that threatened his child stiffened to Jade's neck. The eagle Faunus could see it in Mr. Hoo's eyes, smoldering just below the surface, the oh so desperate desire to help his daughter before him but with no idea how to.

Something clicked in Ashurn's head, or twisted in his heart. Which ever he wasn't sure. He felt…calm, a very cold calm. The opposite of the adrenaline high from before. Everything that wasn't anything in focus but the hostage and thug holding her. Ashurn slowly bent down and gingerly placed his Glock pistol on the ground, Hopefully make himself seem like less of a threat. The other three in the room locked their vision, intent on deciphering what he's was doing. Ashurn gently placed his kukri right next to it. More importantly, it freed up his hands.

"Easy now." He offered to both the fearful hostage and her taker. "We don't want this the end with another body."

"BULLSHIT!" Announced back the criminal. "YOU! You! You killed my friends! You murdered them like hogs!" He pointed his knife away to the creeping pools of blood of yonder. What every he was going to say next died in his throat, because that motion sealed his fate. Ashurn keeping his eye on the prize, the knife. Now he had to needed to pluck it. Seizing the moment he quickly spawned a portal right in front of the knife. The other portal formed before the eagle Faunus. Just as it came to be, Ashurn reached his dominant hand in and gripped the thug's wrist on the other side. Caught without warning the unfortunate victim wasn't prepared when Ashurn yanked him forward, pulling the knife and the entirety of his arm with it, into the portal. Firmly grasping, the eagle Faunus raised his other arm, elbow, pointed down, and slammed it into the presented joint to the thug. He simply needed to pluck the knife, but habit made him wrestle for it, unable to give the slightest of quarter. The goon cried in pain has his knife was spirited from his possession. Jade and her father took this as their cues to act. Jade took advantage of the momentary weakness of the thugs grip and made for the ground. Yǔlù Hoo on the other hand, lined his shotgun and fired twice, once to strip his targets aura, once again to strip his target of his life.

-Thirty minutes later, Hoo's Happy Sashimi-

This wasn't exactly what Ashurn had in mind when he went out for lunch. A quick lunch of stuffing his gut turned to a small bloodbath. Truthfully, the whole ordeal was dealt with in three minutes flat. It was just the issue was that he had to wait for almost an additional half hour. Two minutes were waiting for the police to arrive after Jade called them over. The rest was giving witness testimony, and gathering evidence. Turns out the slain all had fairly known criminal records, something about, being part of some gang. Combined with some security footage, Mr. Hoo had in the back, and both the hungry Faunus and the restauranteur were absolved of any possible murder charges. The officers in blue with shiny badges pined to their chests, took about fifteen minutes interviewing the three of them on what happened, more for verification, since the physical and electronic evidence was more than enough. Who, what, where, why, and so on until they filled out their field reports. Others took pictures of the scene, gathered physical evidence like shell casings, standard procedure. The newcomer just sat back once he was finished with his interview and waited till they gave him the go ahead to leave. Jade had finished earlier and went off the back. Mr Hoo was busy with the officers offering everything they asked of him, and speculating along with them on if this could led to future problems with any other criminal associates of the deceased. Leaving Ashurn to just think to himself, instead of occupying his gullet like he wanted to. It was for a lack of a better term, strange his mind still focused on lunch. He was always a big fan of food, but never to the extent of prioritizing it over the recent butchery.

Murder, well legally according to the police, man slaughter in self defense, but still, no less than half a day here in Remnant, and he already took the lives of four people. He felt oddly… normal about it. Sure he was a bit peckish, or rather ravenously STARVED, but he felt nonchalant about killing four people in hot blooded murder. No weakness of the knees, no sickness at the sight of butchered bodies, no aversion to blood, actually the blood just served to remind himself he hadn't eaten anything substantial yet. How on earth that worked was beyond him.

Then it hit him, as he waited for the Vale Police department to finish up. 'Ashurn in his letter mentioned eagle Faunus prefer meat, right? So if I can assume, Faunus evolved like any other organism, Eagle Faunus and probably any other mainly carnivorous Faunus are adapted mentally to kill for their subsistence. So maybe I don't feel any different, because, eagle Faunus just naturally evolved to not give a shit. Not very adaptive, if killing makes you sick, when it's the way you get food.'

"Sir." Tuned a badge officer in blue, to get his attention. "Anything else to add, you feel needs to be said?"

He just shook his head and said. "Negative."

"Alright, we'll call you should we need anything else. Have a good day Mr. Klay." And the cop turned about and walked off with his coworkers escorting the carted bodies out. "Alright let's pack it up! Get this evidence to the forensics!"

Police tape still crossed out the door keeping people out for the next few days so they could finish cleaning up. Ashurn sighed as he turned to the back to leave. Though Mr. Hoo stood in his way, which was all to apparent has Ashurn had inadvertently collided with his chest.

"Where you going in such a hurry? You never picked up you order!" He said, as his jelly belly finished wiggling. The eagle Faunus just waved it off.

"Seeing as those guys just ruined your shop, I don't want to be such an inconvenience." Whatever excuse, he was given fell on deaf ears, has Mr. Hoo's arms snatched him right off his feet and began crushing him with half the strength, but just as affectionately as Penny had earlier.

"Nonsense boy! Absolute chicken droppings!" His grip tightened just the slightest to break a few ribs Ashurn definitively weren't using. "Boy! You saved my daughter's life, I can't begin to repay you for that, a free lunch is the very least can I can do." Before Ashurn to give the slightest of protests, Mr. Hoo shoved a bucket sized carton into his arms and dropped the Faunus on his feet. Surprisingly, even with his spinal column compromised, he managed to keep waddle his way to the kitchen. Mr. Hoo hollered has he made his way, "Remember! You're always welcome back! We'll always Happy Sash- I mean to see you."and with that he made for the back exit.

But as with the best laid plans, he ran straight into the welcoming arms and bosom of Jade Hoo. She gave him a slightly measured look, before softening. She held his head close to the crack of her neck, giving herself his undivided hearing. "Thank you." She whispered, letting her breath just tingle his ear. Ashurn could feel his cheeks flare, but just as the warmth began, it ended, as She let go and showed him out the back door.

Now in the back alley, Ashurn wondered to himself what that last bit was about. 'Well that whole situation escalated in no time flat. I just wanted lunch and I got a firefight and acquitted of four counts of man slaughter. Ah well, I guess it could've been worst. The waitress could've died, her father could've died, I could've died. Overall everyone that mattered lived.' The heat radiating off his bucket sized package reminder him of something else. 'And I got free lunch! Oh wait a moment. Something's on it.'

On the bucket carton laid a slip of paper, looked to be just stripped off a note book. He picked it up and read it. Well aside form the multiple scratched out ink blobs, read

 **Call me Yùyán. And keep in touch.**

 **427-4321**

These were followed by a series of X's that had a line put though them, then a crossed out O. And ending with a sequence of X's and O's, again with a line put though.

'I guess she wanted to thank me but couldn't put it to paper very well. Kisses seem a bit much and these hugs come off as …something else when there's just X's.' He just shrugged to himself. He just dismissed it as stress going though that mess, so he didn't think any less of her. Still he should add her to his contacts? 'Is it still called contacts?'

A quick look at his Holo-Scroll said the list of contact information app in known has

 **LookUp**

Entering the waitress's name as Yùyán Hoo and add her phone number, he also took mind to bookmark Hoo's Happy Sashimi on the city map. 'Might be a bit pricey, but they seem friendly enough.' With his electronic humbug finished, he headed home, much to the insistence of his stomach.

-Dining Room, Ashurn's House-

Ashurn pulled a varnished wood chair back and sat himself in his usual seating, out of habit, since it seems no one else lived with him. Ashurn knew the sounds of his home, from the jingling of his mothers jade bracelets to his fathers keys and coins in his pockets to the creaking of porcelain tiles to the battering of hanging scrolls moved by opening doors . Without anyone else in the home, it felt alien being alone. Just the other day he bid his parents good night like any other day. His mom went to bed early, and his father crashed on the couch for a few hours to complain about politicians and journalists on the news networks before joining her.

He suppressed these from his mind. There was a time and a place, and now had no need to dwell on such things while he ate. It would only sour the taste, especially since the meal was given has a gift. Harvests prayed open the waterproofed paper product. As the lid flew free, the aroma assaulted his olfactory centers and coated his senses with momentary bliss. Before him laid his meal, even better than the promised example in the picture. Golden beads of seasoned rice bedding numerous little delights, everything between diced Chinese style sausages, strips of squid, chunks of shrimp, and incalculable pieces of vegetables. However what he didn't expect was an additional two containers clipped to the inside of the carton. One was a zip opened bladder, its contents delighted him to no end. It's full of a thick black liquid fit to burst with numerous white disks, spicy chili, onion dices, and black beans . It's one of his families favorites, clams in black bean sauce.

His delighted died has the memories tried to assert themselves. This was perhaps the worst dish he could've had this day. A dish he enjoyed many a times back home. Weddings, family reunions, vacations, even funerals, no matter the occasion, whenever the members of his clan met, there was always a feast in the old country's cuisine, as his father said. Ashurn remembered what he said. 'Where ever we may go, where ever life may bring us, family will always be there. If not before us,' he had pointed to his chest. 'We will always be here.'

Maybe he should half it. It is indeed a bit much, even for his massive appetite. His dinner plate groan a hefty five centimeters high. He lift the dish over the bucket and scrap half back in. That would be his dinner.

The eagle Faunus wipe his hand against his eye for no reason. He tilt the bladder, letting out the clams and their sauce to saturate the bed of rice.

-Flashback-

"Stop that, honey! That is rude to our guests…"

"C'mon sister, your son may be on to something!"

"Yeah! Try it! It's good!"

"Maybe young Harvest should be a chef one day!"

"Over my dead body he will! My son does not study to become someone else's mother."

-Dining Room, Ashurn's House-

Perhaps he could do with a distraction, as he eats. Ashurn didn't take well to the desolate nature of the house. He activated his Holo-scroll and tune to the **Quest** tab. Just to pass the time as he consume his food.

Just as he open the window however a prompt imposed his visual.

 **Drops!**

 **+1x Smith'n Sons Silver Flask, (Filled: Black Vandal Whisky, Consumer Grade)**

 **+1x Gunny & Cutlery Stiletto Knife, Ivory **

**+1x Rollin' Robber Wrist Watch, Series 20**

 **+4x *** **Unknown** *** Gang Dress suits (Variations, 1x red, 2x blue, 1x purple)**

 **+1x Sawed off Shotgun**

 **+22x Hunting Universal 12 Gauge Shotgun Shells**

 **+1x MiB MP5K**

 **+1x MiB MP5 series stock Magazine**

 **+60x MiB 9x19 Pistole Parabellum**

 **+(60Ⱡ) Lien**

'Oh shit yes! I got free stuff from that whole ordeal. I even covered the ammo I used up! I didn't even need to pay for my meal either.' Quashing his joy, Ashurn relegate to sorting though his stuff after lunch. More on his plate, keeping him from actually cleaning his lunch plate. Perfect! Now all he needed is to go over his current quests and get to his long awaited lunch.

 **Quest: Job Interview: The Den**

 **-Speak to Junior at the Den, between Shell and Haze st., in (2) days for a summer position.**

 **Quest: Know thy self…: Ashurn Ormolu Klay**

 **-Read though your personal information.**

'Ok, so I suppose I can look for that job tomorrow. And I can read about Ashurn as I eat. Is there anything else I need to go over?' Ashurn tune to his **Inventory** tab. His balance stands on **Ⱡ3060**. His eyes shimmy row by row. 'I should really organize this mess. Wait more notes and books? Right I just threw these in before heading out to Friendly Fire.' His golden eyes gaze upon some rather important icons he'd neglected. "Aaaaaaand I forgot to equip bullet resistant armor! Just as a fire fight broke out during lunch of all times…" 'Ok Ok! So I read about myself right after this. I got over some of these notes and books till dinner and I think of some… I don't know martial playbook or something till bed. Then after breakfast I can go ahead and get this summer job.' With a plan in mind, it eased him just a bit. Now he can try to enjoy his meal.

Mentally dismissing the **Inventory** screen, he access the Profile and Identification app. Just as the detail bare themselves to him, the dimensional new comer lift a portion of his lunch and strip the spoon clean of its…load…and…and

*Jojo's Bizarre Adventure- Pillar men theme*

Flavor caressed his palate, alkaline taste set fireworks from his eyes and bloomed to magnificent display. The tang of fermented black bean, warmth of pepper, and rich bounty of the sea. The meat of the shellfish was the incarnate of Olympus' finest ambrosia- and the feeling is gone, because he swallow the morsel. Ashurn placed down the spoon as the sudden rush left him.

'Oooo-Kay! That's new!' Ashurn noted. His taste buds certainly support the notion. He took time to piecemeal the dish, taking one small part to test how flavorful each are now. Starches like the rice and black beans alone register just like times he had them back home. The same prove true with the vegetables: peas, onions, carrots and so forth. But the seafood and meat just went off in his mouth like Chinese New Year.

Eventually he got over the initial shock, and went about his business, eating (and certainly not relishing in euphoric high) his meal, and looking over his personal profile on that app, whose name now escapes him.

 **Profile & Identification**

'Yeah that one! Right! Ok let's see what we got here.

 **Name: Ashurn Ormolu Klay**

 **Species: Faunus (Eagle)**

 **Citizenship: Capital City of the Vale, Free Citizen of the Eagle Cohorts**

 **Eye color: Green**

 **Keratin Pigment: Hair (Brown), Feather (Brown)**

 **Sex: Male**

 **Date of Birth: OCT 10, 63 A.G.W.**

 **Age: 17**

 **Height: 1.88 meters**

 **Weight: 110 kilograms (Eagle Faunus wings included)**

 **Family Relationships**

 **-Father: ********** Klay**

 **-Mother: Fèng'Guān Klay nee ********

'And like that I have a headache. First what's an Eagle Cohort? Why isn't my eyes also listed as gold? And why are parts of my, er well, Ashurn's parents names censored?' Ashurn's frustration built to slowly advancing heights. More and more things he didn't know were being showed into his head, and nothing could be done to process any of it. Someway somehow, there had to be some form of touching down on Remnant. He couldn't contemplate what on earth could be going on. He could handle learning new things, he went to school to do just that, but censored publicly available knowledge was a very bad sign. 'Seriously, demons, gunmen, a ground zero in the middle of an urban area, and now censorship! Ashurn, what kind of powder keg did you leave me sitting on.'

Inappropriately a prompt made itself a nuisance.

 **Quest completed**

 **Quest: Know thy self…: Ashurn Ormolu Klay**

"Wha… fuck off!" He ordered. Like a whipped puppy, the window removed itself. Suitably satiate, Ashurn made notes to himself of what to learn. A quick search of Goog- wait… the search engine site was called **Spotter**. Some comments on engine's forums referred to using it as Spotting, so instead of "google it" you "spot it" here in Remnant. Back on track, a quick Spotter search reveal, 1st A.G.W on his birthdate is a acronym for "After Great War". A cursory glance made apparent it was some form of apocalyptic world wide conflict that shattered the regimes at the time. Something akin to World war 2, was Ashurn's opinion made in filed that under research later. World wars are no small subject to study, He'd look into it when his knowledge base was far more situated. 2nd topic is what the devil is an "Eagle Cohort"? Turns out the answer was far more obscured. What he got out of his surface deep search was it was some form of ethnic-state congregation of Eagle Faunus. At least that's what he could gather under the mountains of people's opinions of **"how those animals should be put to the sword for barbaric practices of slavery and cannibalism" "those turkeys should be served headless and plucked. See how they like it." "Their collective Cohorts should be systematically eradicated from the face of the earth, and their children subjugated for the thousands of years of sins of their forebears."** And so on and so on. These weren't even the worse of them, in fact those were the most coherent to an argument. The rest were just a series of vitriolic cesspools, the next more corrosive than the last. Regardless, the sentiment came though, until he learned more about the situation of eagle Faunus as a whole, be better lay low the fact he is one.

Ashurn did not have much fun reading these comments, but it gave him fair warning. People generally, or at least the ones who have access to internet, disliked his race. For now however, he'd just keep his head down, and gather money, skill and knowledge. Money of course keep him fed and cover other basic essentials like ammunition. Skill would keep his life expectancy fairly reasonable. Knowledge is an absolute must have, despite what he could surmise form one afternoon walk, he is still very much walking blind here. A guy walking down the street wielding a light machine gun was no big whoop, so social custom is still beyond him.

Scooping his meal into his mouth at regular pace, with only minimal distraction from the orgasmic discourse on his tongue, Ashurn pondering on what to do with the information he need to work with. 'The money front should be covered well enough for now.' Three thousand lien rest in his Holoscroll, and a spontaneous online window shopping trip, clued him on lien's worth. Fortune smiled on him, Lien is on scale with USD, so the amount in his account should hold him steady for a while. The regular job under this "Junior' person in his **Quest** tab would also prolong his self sufficiency. 'I also need to plan my schedule around his working hours.' Remnant Ashurn had set up the meeting, so he didn't have a clue on what the job entail, aside from the boss' name and address. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad, and it pays well enough of course. Then again this was the same guy that screwed his entire life, so it's less a leap of faith, and more a suicide swan dive into a bucket. 'Though I don't exactly much prospects, I'm seventeen again, and I'm going to school in a few months. Giving Remnant the benefit of a doubt, there are probably labor laws for a minor, and few employers would hire someone for just a season.'

Ashurn scraped what little beads of rice survived his onslaught, and eat them. In the privacy of his home, Ashurn felt comfortable enough to lift the plate with his off hand and licked it clean of any sauce left over. Belching in satisfaction, Ashurn felt renewed, the weight of his situation eased up a bit on his back. He felt a bit more eager to braved this new world.

So in more enthusiasm Ashurn spawned some of the reading materials his Remnant version had left with his armor. Notes, books and a paper package scatter before him. Their titles read as…

 **Ashurn's note on some volatile heirlooms to avoid until ready**

 **Ashurn's note on some magical practices, where my tomes are, and tips**

 **Vacationer's pocket guide to Eagle Faunus Cohorts**

 **Igfrid's Novice Guide to the Higher Mysteries & the Spark of Fire.**

 **The Household Wife's Handbook to Domestic Magics.**

'Well I guess Ashurn can do magic… So can I? I should probably do that later, after getting my work hours set with Junior, So I can learn and practice on my free time. So that means I should ready the note on the Cohorts and... heirlooms? Ma Ma and Ba Ba never had anything too adangerous in the house. How bad could it be?' Ashurn drew the note from his hammer space and opened it up.

Turns out pretty bad.

 **List of some KNOWN, that's an important detail, artifacts in your house that should be treated carefully.**

 **Family Shrine- You know the drill, do ANYTHING to treat it poorly, it will retaliate.**

'Do what I usually do, got it. Beg for forgiveness of our bloodline.'

 **Family Jade-Dust Dragon Statue- Do not let it break. Jade dust is fairly inert, it's what is being nullified that scares me.**

'…that's …foreboding…'

 **All our Pottery creations,**

'All of them? The ones I made in ceramics in high school?'

 **yes those ones- varies but you learned to make clay statues at school. I did… other things during my free time. Fair warning magic isn't an exact science.**

 **Pocket Watch- Personal and Clan Icon, I don't know but it's from the family so I don't trust it.**

 **And yes these don't go into quite so much detail. Spoiler alert.**

 **Also go to hell.**

 **Sinc-**

At this point he just stopped reading. Didn't know how much of a douche he was. Hopefully this was a case, where that's one aspect of his personality that was different from his own… other him ow…whatever.

'You know what maybe starting out with info specific to me, isn't the best idea. I should just get to know the status quo first.' That would need general information. To Ashurn this meant Wikipedia. Not the best source ever, but certainly a good starting point for the every day joe to build a foundational understanding.

Placing the note in his hand back from once it came, Ashurn started to binge every scrap of information on Wi- no wait… Dustpedia… 'Well at least it isn't a pun.'

Hours passed as he searched general information. Page after page, pieced together a puzzle, finally giving him a complete if a tad vague idea what he was working with. 'Ok so the world of Remnant is comprised of five continents.' One uninhabited and unnamed due to political squabbling. One in habited by Faunus, called Menagerie. 'Real fucking creative.' A land mass "gifted" to the Faunus people for past grievances. Though there were mention of most of it being hostile deserts, wildlife, plant life and more of these Grimm beasts. What he could surmise was its like a demon infested Australia, colonize by animal fetishists. Perhaps it was unfair to say such a thing, but comedy has no unacceptable casualty. As a proponent of freedom of speech, Ashurn made it his right to mock or demean anyone and everyone, for any reason whatsoever. If there was no reason, he'll just find one.

'Oh wait I'm getting of track here. What else did I learn?' His research revealed that there are four internationally recognized Kingdoms. Atlas occupies the northern continent of Solitas. Apparently there's some for of dispute going on between them and their former regime called Mantle, a declining kingdom of the same area.

Mistral governs Anima, a continent that resembles a dragon humping a sea lamprey. Ok some continents on the map look like familiar shapes, like Menagerie looks like a fish and the unnamed one looks like a dragon, but in Anima's case he just couldn't unsee it. Even that was being generous, honestly it looked more like- "Ok you know what! Fuck it! It looks like a Chinese dragon with a massive schlong infected and flacking with pox!" Whatever was going on on that continent he had no clue, far more occupied with the dragon dick of the landmass. 'Oh god! Mass…'

… moving on. Vacuo sits on the western side of Sanus, the continent Ashurn himself found himself standing on. Though if it is a sovereign nation is debatable. Apparently the ruling body with marginal powers at best. Their version of Beacon academy is called Shade academy holds the most political clout, and even then does little governing. Forget Menagerie being Australia with a demonic anus incursion. Vacuo sounds more like that topped of a layer of Mad Max, Survival of the fittest, and Darwinism being the sole rule of the place. Literally the place is infested with all sorts of worst people you could come up with. Bandits, pirates, slavers, warlords, and who knows what else.

The Vale, where his new residency is situate, is on the eastern end of the same continent, Sanus. Surprisingly it stands as the most stable as on current times, sure it still has issues with crime, Grimm, terrorism, energy inflation, Grimm, social tension between races, Grimm again. Aside from the eternal terror to all sentient life, it in all due respects just like home. Oh wait he forgot the censorship and shadow government. Ok slightly worst than home, but not by much.

Remnant Kingdoms current and historic, have always dealt with these creatures of darkness, since the birth of life apparently. Moderate amounts sentient lives outside of the security of the kingdoms. Most colonies appear and disappear of the face of the planet in regular intervals. Much to his surprise there were mentions of Eagle Faunus in this respect! To quote directly from the Dustpedia page **"Most long lasting colonies exist though the services of either or both of the Huntsmen or the Eagle Faunus Cohorts. Huntsmen are not obligate to any one nation, but are entrusted with the responsibility of protecting humanity and faunus kind as a whole. Eagle Cohorts do so by either extending treaties to these independent colonies, exchanging their services, usually for a form of regular payment, or these colonies pledge their loyalty and sovereignty to the Cobort's fold, becoming what the eagle Faunus refer to them as, Citizen-Aux. This is short for Citizen Auxiliaries Colonial. Many criticize this practice on the grounds that the Eagle Faunus are merely exploiting the insecurities of these client states. This is compounded by the Eagle Faunus practices of Indoctrinated Slavery and Cannibalism Field Foraging policy.'**

...

Ashurn turned his attention to his back. Resting on his back his wings flare upwards. He turns back to the document. Ashurn turns his attention to his wings again, flaps them for a bit to fully recognize they are indeed real. Once more he turn back to the webpage.

'I'm fucked right from down under aren't I?' He predict. 'Well nothing I can do about, except… live I guess. Hey you know what those people at Hoo's like me! And so does Penny! Sequoia…I… um… entertained her…Maybe it won't be that bad. So what if some folks hate me for my race or whatever. I can make this work!' Perhaps this would just be a statement made in ignorance, but he felt up to braving this new world. He couldn't really do anything to go back, so he should at least try to carve out a life for himself here. It's the least he could do before he met his ancestors in death.

On this day, some faggot called Murphy held aloft his ear and felt the breeze of Ashurn's words pass it. His smile grew three times that day and he laughed and laughed and laughed.

-Hours later, Ashurn's bedroom, Ashurn's House-

Having finished his day of information binging, Ashurn excuse himself to the rest of the Seafood Fried Rice and the Black Bean Clams. A quick trip to the oven and a lick of the plate, Ashurn took the rest of the evening sorting his stuff out in his Holo-Scroll's **Inventory.** Nothing noteworthy, juts moving all the stuff he's currently using to the front page, and everything else to the second. Honestly, so much had happened over the course of thirteen hours he felt mentally exhausted with all this new stuff. Stuff he had to now live with for the rest of his life. Taking care of his personal business in the bathroom, the Faunus changed out of his Russian getup to a comfy salmon tee and basket ball shorts. His wings phased thought the shirt as did the blue one that morning.

Felling to the cotton land of puff and dreams his rest his head and found his body pillow, a red sausage of fabric printed in the design of fern leaves. Hugging it close and throwing the sheet around him, his strength sapped little by little unti-

*Jojo's Bizarre Adventure- Pillar men theme*

…That would be his phone. Jerking an eye open, as the other simply refused to, he saw the unknown number. He press the pickup button harder than needed. 'If this is Actual, I'm going to delay-'

 **Z Sal-u-tations, friend Ashurn! Z**

It was Penny. "Likewise Penny."

 **Z You said I could call at anytime. Dad said now would be too late, and Uncle wanted to know of any possible criminal activity you may have partaken in, public records, and finger prints. Is now a bad time to talk? Z**

Ashurn look to the digital clock on his desk.

 **1:42 AM**

"…It's fine I can talk."

AN: Quick F.Y.I for anyone interested in my other story: Lost in Ylisse. I have most of the chapter down in type, hopefully I can finish it up by the after this series of exams this week.

And remember to Review, any bit of criticism goes far into making me a better writer. If you wish to discuss ideas of my stories or ideas you are thinking of, or just want some casual conversation with some stranger online, feel free to PM me!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY or any publicly recognizable properties nor do I make money from this. Seriously does anyone on this site own anything?

AN:…um… Did you know ancient bread wore down people's teeth, due to grit left over from the grind stone process?...The more that you know!

Sentence

"Talk"

'Thought'

*Sound*

-Place-

 **Z Electronic voice Z**

 **Document/Text**

-Morning, Ashurn's bedroom, Ashurn's House-

*BATTLESHIP SIREN!*

*Thud*

"CAPTAIN, OUR VESSEL HAS Explo..."

The sudden sound roused the Faunus from his bed, leaving him tangled up in his sheets and falling face first off the side of his twin size, kissing the ceramic tiling. Ashurn sat up and spat out whatever might've latched to his lips. "Geez. What the heck was that!?" he exclaimed.

*BATTLESHIP SIREN!*

"It's still on!" Suddenly his wrist lit up, explaining what was going on.

*BATTLESHIP SIREN!*

The Holo-Scroll window displayed…

 **You got Mail!**

"…Are you kidding me? That's my message alert!" Grumbling, Ashurn opened the message prompt.

 **To: USER "Ashurn Ormolu Klay" of EXISTENCE SPACE, PLANET CLASS: Remnant**

 **From: Lore Labs customer support**

 **Subject: Employee misconduct, Administrator Apologies, and Compensation**

 **Dear Valued Customer** _ **ASHUR KLAT**_ **,**

 **We have been made aware of a dispute between yourself and one of our employees. Upon reviewing evidence, we have concluded that the employee known as** _ **ACTUAL,**_ **had conducted his/herself under the standards expected of our staff.**

 **Here in Lore Labs, we pride ourselves on providing only the highest standard of interdimensional experience available in existence and beyond. Our company motto is-**

At this point, Ashurn got tired of the long-winded corporate fluff. 'Actual done me dirty got it, just get to the point already.' Skipping about several dozen paragraphs of filler, he restarted reading.

 **In due compensation for subpar services rendered, your customer support will be handled by new personnel, as well as a small package for your understanding. We here at Lore Labs appreciate your generous forgiveness in this matter.**

 **Signed,**

 **The Director**

As he finished reading the message, it closed and the opened the purchase menu

 **Lore Labs Customer Care Package**

 **-Currency!**

 **-Rare Gear!**

 **-Priceless Loot!**

 **-Mystery Prizes in every package!**

 **Price: Free**

 **Buy?**

"…they honestly misspelled my… ugh. Fine, you know what. I don't have to talk to Actual and deal with his jackassery anymore, and I'm getting something out of it."

Accepting the offer open a new window

 **Thank you for your patronage.**

 **View in Inventory or Close window?**

Pressing the **View in Inventory** button brought him to the **Inventory** page where the package had been deposit. Its icon was of a pixelated pink and blue present rather than the three-dimensional models of his other items. Ashurn tried to activate it like any other item, but there was only one option.

 **Drop to Use**

'So I can't sell it, move it, or anything for that matter if there's only one option well..' His finger finish the logic line.

Light wire frame itself into form on his bed. A second total the whole process, till the planes formed took to the color grey. For all intents and purposes, it looks to be a simple gray box made of some sort of polymer. Whatever it was consist of, either the mass of the material or the container's contents, made one thing clear.

It was simply too much weight for his bed.

Like miniature explosions, the legs of his wooden bed frame gave way in a loud snap.

"My Bed! No…" Ashurn complained. "...Aw…" His father handmade that bed for him when he was ten. He even made the one before it. It meant a lot to him… and now… 'Oh no wait it's not my bed in a way,…nor is Ashurn's dad mine. I don't have a father he-.' He shut down that idea.

 **Quest: No Rest for the Weary**

 **-Repair or replace bed frame**

Ashurn just dismissed the new quest for later. There were bits of wood and nails he had to move. After taking fifteen minutes to move all the large wooden pieces out to the back and wrapping them in a bundle with some tarp, the Faunus used an additional five minutes to sweep up the splinters in his room. After disposing of the wood, Ashurn placed his mattress on the ground.

'Well… if it's any consolation, I guess I still have somewhere to sleep.' If the Japanese could sleep on futons, Ashurn supposed he could make due till he fixed the frame. However, if his mother ever found out he was doing so, there would be hell to pay. Just like his father did, when his mother discovered Ashurn had to sleep with his mattress on the floor. That was when it was time for the frame had to be replaced, after an infestation of termites. For his mother, however, her baby sleeping on the floor had NO acceptable excuse, just as his father was a fully acceptable casualty for her wrath.

He missed them, dearly.

-Living room, Ashurn's House-

He had placed the gray box in the living room as he finish his household dues. Essentially, he had to lift one side and let the other scrap against the porcelain tiles to drag it out of the hall. When it choked up the door frame, some good old fashion shoulder charges, and the screaming of "BANZAI!" helped it though and into the hall. With all of his unexpected chores finished, It was time to open the box that had caused him such trouble.

'…Ok, how do you open a box from a higher plane of existence?'

A cursory look for a seam came up null. A closer inspection proves equally fruitless. Scratching his temple, Ashurn tried to push the box, perhaps to open a latch he simply didn't catch.

Nope, nothing. A partial college education and he were being outdone by a parallelogram container. Sparing himself some dignity of being stump by a box, he decided to get to it later. Now was time for the most important meal of the day according to people he didn't know personally.

-Kitchen, Ashurn's House-

The morning had been for fortifying himself with a hearty traditional breakfast. Rice porridge with soy sauce, scrambled egg with green onion, pork wool, dried anchovies, and a mug of milk made a the best start of the day, according to his whole family. He would need his energy and alertness for any job interview. He certainly wasn't suffering from tongue euphoria induced by the anchovies, he swore to the heavens. His new Faunus body certainly didn't made him relish every carnivorous bite. Though eggs had less of an effect, not that he felt the positive feedback of his breakfast that is.

Regardless, it subsided and he's thoughts came to his job prospect. Perhaps he just overreacting, but one couldn't be too sure. He was going to the Den a day early, to get some cash flow going. Getting some virtual stranger to trust him with any form of responsibility would be an uphill battle, cause the boss holds all the cards.

Literally, since money here came in the form of cards called Lien. Lien cards took the look of what essentially debit cards, plastic sheets with a magnetic strip and assigned color. While he was topping his rice meal with some dried anchovies drowning in soy, he took a quick look on the species of Lien. Like some gay pride parade was placed in charge designing global economics, Lien is organized according to a color of the visible light spectrum. Ashurn says visible light spectrum instead of the rainbow to sound more sophisticated than he actually is, in addition some part of his self respect stabs him from the inside for not using proper adult language.

Lien cards are according to color, as red represented lowest single, whole denomination, with the exception to change, of one lien, orange is five, yellow is ten, green is twenty, blue is fifty, and purple one hundred. Simple.

What isn't quite as simple are white and black lien cards. White cards essentially work like credit cards. Different credit companies have different brands, but some mandate from some past economist ruled such as standard. Black cards work as debit cards. Each black card must have at least point zero one lien as a minimum to function and work as change storage. Government buildings issue black lien cards if given any other lien cards aside from the white credit cards. In exchange, the person is issued a black debit card with the same amount. These are also used for a large scale business transaction as there is no technical limit to the amount store on the card.

Once he finished his breakfast, showered, combed and got dressed, he had to make himself as presentable as possible. Not only would this job prospect held mine secure some financial stability, but if he does a good job, it may even open up to further opportunities down the line. If nothing else at least a job well done would look good on a resume.

-Entrance, The Den Night Club-

'Between Haze and Shell. This is Haze. Aaaand Shell! Here we are.' He noted as he arrives to the corner street sign.

Ashurn looked up from his online map, to see the concrete building before him. The whole structure seems unsubstantial aside from some fairly appealing window design and the inactive Neon sign of the " **Den** " in the jaws of a bear head, but not much else is going for it. To his right stand a highway, its support is somewhat rusted, and just beyond some broken into for lease space. To his left stood quaint little ma and pa shops. This position is a reminder he stood between to decent part of town, and the red light district.

From this distance, he could vaguely hear some rhythm seeping from the double doors. Shoving one of the doors in his way, his ears filled with the quick succession of electronic beats. 'A night club wasn't exactly what I had in mind.' The song playing was not familiar to him, but its beat's slow enough for him. Now the club was only in its early slow hours as these types of establishments got really going at night. Few patron sat about enjoying drinks, before noon he felt he needed to add, and the dance floor lay bear. Scanning the room, the most visible colors in the display are clear crystal column and tiling, red leather furniture, and black shades. The theme mirror in the uniformed, what he assumed to be bouncers. The Den's security was currently held by fifty or so personnel. Each bouncer was decked in black suits and fedoras, with red tint circular glasses and dress shirts. At their hips, they bore a mix loadout of red katanas, red axes not unlike the ones used by firefighters, and a rather heavy looking gray, red striped pistol. Flashes of the incident yesterday at Hoo's ramrod their way into his active memory. Now he really needs to keep his wits about him, if they turn on him it would be no question who would end up as Swiss cheese. The last thing he needed was another manslaughter charge on his record, regardless if it was justified.

Ignoring the mob of guys that walk straight out of the Good Fellas, he made for the drinking hole. Attending it stands a late thirtyish maybe forties man, clean, short black hair cut with his groomed beard and mustache. His attire swapped out the red undershirts of his fellows for a white equivalent, and their jackets for a vest. Ashurn went on a limb and guess he is Junior. Mostly his hypothesis is based on the fact the man is stacking Lien cards. Given the colors, the amount handled logically would be done so by the manager.

His approach got noticed by who he assumed to be Junior.

"Aren't you a little young to be here, kid." His question expresses more as a soft-served demand.

"I'm here about the job." Ashurn offer as simple and providing as little info as possible. Ashurn knows he's working with a disadvantage. He knows still an insufficient amount about Remnant, so he needs to provide little hint of how naïve he truly is. Any slip ups or inconsistently with his logic could get him a one way trip to the funny house. He needs to be careful with what he says.

Junior stroke his chin, before it came to him. "Right, the huntsmen kid. Ash-something or another. You're a day early."

"Ashurn and I didn't have anything else going on, so here I am." Seeming to accept his reasoning, Junior pulled a thin paper packet and pen from under the counter, and place it in front of him.

"Read it, re-read it, no complaints, sign it. If you have a problem with my terms, get out of my club." Junior seeing nothing else he needs to explain left to go about his business. Ashurn snatchs up the document and settle at a comfy booth to read though Junior's employee contract.

'Hm okay, so I get twenty lien per hour, five days a week, eight-hour shifts… two AM to ten, ten to six PM, and six to two in the morning. Uniform, suit, hat, glasses, etc…. expected to listen to the boss… yadda yadda…responsible for removing rowdy customers by any means short of lethal force... yikes…um… Benefits… dental, oh no wait unless season employee… never mind… perks… free tap so long as it doesn't impede work, and ten percent discount on food and stimulants… What. The. Hell. Are. Oh they're drugs...' turning the page over, went though each line several times and going over each line once more just to be safe. After all not reading these contracts got him here, to begin with. Finding Junior's terms agreeable, after all, any source of income is certainly better than none, Ashurn signed his name on the dotted line, or at least he began to but scratched out the H, a, and r. Dear God, he didn't know to spell his new name.

Once he referred to his scroll just to make sure he spelled his name correctly… and a bout of shame upon his head, when he realize this, he got up to find Junior-sensei to turn in his homework. Junior look over his papers and nod. He told the Faunus to wait as he exits the employee only door. Upon returning he hand a vacuum seal plastic bag to him.

"Here's your uniform, this does not make you an official member of the Axe Gang. It is to be worn at all times during work hours, you are responsible for it unless it is damaged under work related incident. Any questions?"

Ashurn asked, "What hours am I working and aside from handling rowdy patron what else do I need to do?"

"I'll have your schedule in a bit. Besides just watching the place I occasionally need…side jobs for you to do. You're a huntsmen in training kid, right? I need you to take care of some Grimm that get into places I rather not have them. You'll, of course, be compensated accordingly. Understood?" Ashurn nodded as Junior continued, "There's changing rooms in the back. By the time you're out, I'll have your work hours." The owner of the Den slipped his scroll out of his pocket and pulled it apart to enlarge the display. Despite having the reverse image, the newcomer to Remnant could tell it's a time table.

The newly employed Faunus make his way back, past the kitchen, the pantry, and then Junior's office, according to the plaque. After a dozen or so doors, he arrived to the opening label changing rooms on the side. He turned left, to the men's side. He opened the first door on his right. Unlock, it swings open unhindered. In the isolation of the changing rooms, Ashurn open his package and add to his inventory: **Den Bouncer Fedora, Den Bouncer Jacket, Den Bouncer Dress Shirt, Den Bouncer Slacks** , and **Den Bouncer Dress Shoes**. As soon as the last piece enter his hammer space, a prompt appeared. 'Hmm fedoras aren't really my thing, but it completes the outfit.'

 **Items in a set maybe added together as one item. This may be from items fabricated as part of standardized set, or one made by the player.**

Fulfilling its purpose, another takes its place.

 **Combine: Den Bouncer Fedora, Den Bouncer Jacket, Den Bouncer Dress Shirt, Den Bouncer Slacks** , and **Den Bouncer Dress Shoes?**

 **Yes/No**

Figuring there was no reason why not, he confirmed and filled in the blank bar window that appeared with **Den Bouncer Uniform**. He practice his mental commands to remove everything he is wearing and equip the the consolidate uniform. Ashurn feels the alien sensation of exposure to the elements for a bit, before the uniform settle his skin. He stretched his body a bit, breaking in the stiff suit. He looks to his hand and spawns his white glove, then dematerialize it back to oblivion. 'I think I'll call this Fazing.' No one really uses that word, and Ashurn knows to label such an important ability. Also it certainly is far more creative name than copying Ezra from Fairy Tail and calling it equip magic.

The rest of the day goes uneventfully. Junior gave him his work hours, six PM to two AM, Tuesday to Saturday. He starts tomorrow, his first Tuesday in employment. Well, aside from that one summer he spent at an ice cream shop. His apparent new job didn't seem to make his colleges anymore welcoming, but he just shrugged it off. So long has he was gonna get paid he didn't mind some ire. A quick trip to fast food burger place called Grilly as Char…

He ordered number one combo and left with his order immediately able.

From there he kept surfing the internet more and more to pass the time and learn.

-Early at Night, Ashurn's House-

He should really get on getting some dinner. His Holo-scroll says six and Ashurn says a dinner as late has eight is still acceptable. He really wants to solve the cosmic box sitting in his house. After all, if one had a mystical box from beyond existence, wouldn't they want to open it. 'Then again that didn't really pan out well for Pandora, but fuck it. What's life without a few risks? I mean a box can't release plagues of ruination over humanity twice, right? Then again this is a new world with new myths so mayb… oh ancestral mercies, on a tangent I go ahoy. Question how does one open a box from beyond reality?'

He had already tried lifting each side to perhaps to find some seam. Fruitless. He tried pushing one end to maybe slide off the top, or something. Nada. Starting to get frustrated he rest on it for a bit to unravel the conundrum. Ashurn activates his scroll to see if the message contained any clues or instructions.

Upon placing his hand flatly for ten seconds on it, the scroll opened a new window. Its display consist of a series of white panels with a line going down the middle. 'This looks like one of those slide slot machines.' On the side is a five. 'So I get five tries or five total prizes?'

Placing his finger on the slider, he experimentally oscillate his digit side to side, the panel moving along in tandem. Seeing as every block seem to be a question mark, there wasn't really any point to gauge what strength he needed to get anything. Essentially this was all bells, whistles, and presentation, whatever he would land on, would be a crap shoot. Revving his finger, he slid the spinner as far right as he could, because why not.

Several seconds pass as the slider eventually lost momentum, clone after clone of punctuation pass by, until the chosen question mark presented itself, identical mark number no body cares. With every bit of fanciful fanfare, the question mark panel shattered into a large yellow star display.

'That better not be another fucking box…' His years spent on Team Fortress two made him wary of gambling and mystery containers.

The panel flip over.

"Holy!" He start, but stop to run his eyes. Nope he is not going insane. The picture, the text, it corroborate what his brain is telling him.

 **Custom Baktoid Combat Automata B-1C Battle droid package**

 **-1x Used Baktoid Combat Automata B-1 Custom battle droid**

 **-1x Bakoid Industrial Grade B-1 Engineering Station**

 **Item: Baktoid Combat Automata B-1 Custom battle droid**

 **Nickname: Junker**

 **Item type: Mech**

 **Materials: Fiberglass, Steel, Aluminum, Rubber, Resin, Copper, and various Synthetics.**

 **Manufacturer(s): Baktoid Combat Automata, Modifier:*Unknown***

 **Modification**

 **-Custom Parts: Evergreen paint, Reinforced Electromagnetic joints Mk2, Refurbished Binary Corp. Modular Custom Cognition Processor, Custom Comlink Frequency Pack**

 **Description: Inexpensive, innumerable, and inexhaustible in the most extreme of sense, B-1 battle droids are a cheap simple infantry unit for Starship security and later field use. Though, simple in construction, programming, repair, and amount to others, these droids are pretty much inferior to any other basic humanoid combatants. At best these units can manage is walk towards the enemy and shoot from the hip. However, this can be litigated by fielding B-1s in vast quantities, making up for what they lack in sophisticated military doctrine, with overwhelming numbers.**

 **This particular example has been modified.**

 **It smells faintly of detritus, did someone salvage this from the garbage?**

 **Item: Bakoid Industrial Grade B-1 Engineering Station**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Item type: Service Kit**

 **Materials: Steel, Rubber, Resin, Copper, and various Synthetics**

 **Manufacturer(s): Baktoid Combat Automata**

 **Description: A multipurpose droid service station for the repairman in a portable package. Cleaning, welding, rewiring, and recharging almost other usages made easy.**

Giddy as a kid on Christmas, he open the package on the interface. He ignore the station for the icon of the droid. Even in the smaller picture, he could make out the squatting position it took while inactive like in the movies. He just had to get this thing out, up and about! His inner Star Wars fanboy mandate it so! Before him sat one of his favorite robot types in fiction period!

As with everything else, fazing the B-1, in the fetal position, lit white lines in a wire frame before each plane filled up and took color. It was everything his hoped and dreams were made of. The robot's skeletal frame comprise of tan parts, each simple polygonal, like it wasn't worth shaving down the corners. It's back hauled a square pack, the same color as the droid with an antenna standing juts above its head. Each hand tip with simple digits in two fingers and a thumb. The most noticeable difference was the wintergreen paint, coloring most of the sickle-shaped head with the exception of the 'eyes' if those spots were indeed optic sensors, as well as painted shoulders and a large spot on its chest. It smelled vaguely of freshly fertilized lawn, but he couldn't care less. Now couldn't be more awesome for him. It suddenly erect, every moment brought him back to those grade school days when he'd fantasize owning a separatist droid army. It's crescent head regard him. In a high pitch, electronic voice it spoke.

 **Z B-1 Battle droid unit OOM-526 reporting. Are you new registered user Ashurn? Z**

"That I am."

 **Z Roger roger. Third party software has been detected in this unit and have been deactivated for the shipping process. Would you like to reactivate programs? Z**

'Third party?' "What do these programs include?"

 **Z Scanning… Scan complete. Addition software compliment includes Personality_B-1_Junker_droid, Software_Slice_Engine, and Socializing_ &Banter_Algorithm. Z**

'None of those sound too bad, I mean the worst is the slicer program. If my fan knowledge is correct, that's hacking. Still, while I've got him, I might as well get turn these installed.' "Alright activate the program complement." He ordered.

 **Z Roger Roger Z** call Ashurn easily amused, but just having a real honest to God droid respond to him, made this whole matter with the box worth it. Even if it destroyed the bed frame his father made for him with his own two hands.

 **Z Complete. Program complement has been installed. Running Personality Module Junker. Z** As if it snapped from a trance the stiff heads forward look dropped to a more aware state. Well more like the neck loosen a bit, and its head bobbed a bit while making each pitch of noise. It looked momentarily confused.

 **Z Wha- Where- Z** It then turned to Ashurn, who cheekily waved hello at it. It drip its faceplate. **Z Oh Ohhhhhhhh, I got sold again didn't I. Z**

'Coming to a new place without your personal permission. Welcome to my new reality bud.' "If you mean I got you from somewhere else, then yes."

 **Z I know. How low was the price this time? Z**

'Geez, what a downer. Well, guess I shouldn't talk with how I reacted getting here. Not my proudest moment.' "Well… I got you from a game of… slots?" He suppose that was close enough to the truth.

 **Z Ok… Z** it weakly gave. A pregnant silence fell upon then before it decided to start right back up. **Z Well… I guess your my new owner… Ashurn Ormolu Klay. Hope I don't disappoint you… This Unit is OOM-526, but I've been designated as "Junker" I guess you could call me that too. Z**

Ashurn truthfully felt the malice behind the name, maybe it was just its mood. Honestly talking to it felt like speaking to an abused horse. Junker seemed a bit mean to call such a depressed thing. Maybe some new name would lighten its mood a bit. He gave the droid the once over. It's rather spindly and its most noteworthy feature was its green shade.

"Mantis."

 **Z What? Z**

"Mantis. That is your name. I'm not accepting anything else."

 **Z Well… you are my new owner… Alright Mantis it is then. Registering… acknowledged Unit OOM-526 is now nicknamed "Mantis". What are your directives master? Z**

"Don't call me that. Sounds a bit too Machiavellian villainous. Call me…Warboss." Ashurn couldn't help himself. He just had to indulge.

 **Z Roger roger, User Ashurn Ormolu Klay is to be henceforth referee to as "Warboss". Z**

He gave it a moment to think of a use for it. He could enlist it to help him fight, but watching the movies told him how that would go, beside it didn't even have a weapon. 'Hmm, what does one do with a robot companiOh! I know!' Once again childhood dreams do come true.

"Mantis how good are you at researching?"

 **Z This unit has rudimentary slicing software to- Z**

"No no no, I mean with publically available sources." 'Though if I recall, slicing is Star Wars jargon for hacking. File that note away for later.' Mantis squeeze its head just above its face plate. A face palm?

 **Z I'm a droid, as fast as my processing can go. Z**

"Perfect." The processing power from a science fiction franchise should be enough for what he had in mind. "I got a list of somethings I need you to get for me online."

-Later that Night, -

Ashurn had left the newly dubbed Mantis with some keywords and access to the internet on the terminal he had in his room. Never really used it since he had the Holo-scroll thing. Still, a robot to do his homework for him, well in this case researching Remnant in his stead, was his childhood fantasy brought to life. Though he kind of wished he didn't have to give up his cushy life in Hawaii. Instead of wasting hours staring at screens he could now focus on his own situation. First, a trip to town to get some dinner. Second, thoughts of how schedule would be till summer time while he walks.

'Ok, so I need to practice with my weapons, Aura and resemblance or whatever my portals are called. I could go to Friendly Fire in the mornings to do that. After lunch I can do whatever I need till my shift at the Den, I can dine there since employees get a discount. Am I missing anything?' Finding nothing too vital, he shrugged.

Wandering around Vale proper help him get a feel for the layout, Ashurn kept his eagle eyes peeled for something to wet his whistle, preferably it had a mother and was butchered. 'Seriously meat tastes even better somehow! Baba could barbecue with the best of them, but… but…oh…what heavenly aroma is that…' Whatever it was, it sang to him. Not used to his Faunus instincts, his senses drove him haywire. His skin prickle with hunger, nostalgia, eagerness, and half a dozen other things, he was in no condition to process.

He simple must get his mouth on whatever it is.

-A Simple Wok, Vale City-

Warm, succulent noodles slide down his throat and was followed with slivers of beef stomach lining. Ashurn's Eagle taste buds echo his approval of his dinner. Beef meat, tendon, and stomach came as a natural favorite with his family background. It didn't hold a candle to homemade, but the added advantage of his carnivore wired brain said the Pho tasted great regardless.

Ashurn had happened upon a noodle stand called **A Simple Wok** , as the source of the entrancing fragrance. Now he sat with his white face wrap loose and around his neck. He didn't need it getting stain with soup, especially with how reckless he was slurping it.

"So food gets you moaning and all, but sweet ol' me can't get ya to com' with a half decent pickup line?" A familiar female voice sprang up from behind. "Way to make a belle feel right down, Sug."

Ashurn's heart would've dropped if there was any more room in his stomach. 'Please don't be Cherry. Please don't be Cherry. Please!' He about face. 'FUCK!'

Though his mouth mimicked his thought and he spat out quite a lot of broth. A lot of broth right into the pissed face of Sequoia Cherry.

"You better have damn good reason to do what you just did…" She threaten with a low tone, slighted at her now wet top. Her hand ease to her hip, frightening Ashurn with every centimeter.

'Quick! Think of something that won't get me killed.' He told himself. " I peppered my soup with some spice, but now I need something nice. Now, won't you sugar me?"

Cherry wander her vision all around clearly trying to get a reaction out of him as she "thought" about his "proposal" "Not bad, better than before. 'Course you need to treat me to let this" She gesture to her top. "slide."

Ashurn release a sigh of relief. Never piss off someone with a big iron revolver on their hip. He motion he to sit. What was worth more, his bodily integrity or a dinner? She smile satisfied over his grief, a free dinner, or both. As Cherry took her seat, Ashurn noticed a bit over-stretching of her tone leg, and a louder than subtle moan.

'Honestly this chick. Damn you Ashurn! If you didn't flirt with her to begin with, I won't be dealing with your mess.'

"'Ey there old timer." She greeted the old man that ran this noodle stand. "Still workin' yourself to the gout I see." Despite the shot at his age, the senior citizen smiled in good natured familiarity. He wasn't anything assuming like Mr. Hoo. He wore simple gray slacks, faded green shirt, with a red smock. His most outstanding features were his mane of grey hair, with his balding top, and his eyes seem squinted. Actually, he never seem to open his eyes at all, even when Ashurn pointed to his order nor really talk very much. If a he could respond with one word it would be "hn" for yes or "mhm" for no. "I'll have the Neptune's Bounty Spaghetti Nero."

Ashurn slammed his hands on the counter in shock. "THAT'S THE MOST EXPENSIVE THING ON THE MENU!" He yelled in outrage. His protest was met with momentary silence, before the clank of ceramic touched his ear. To his left rest a bowl the size of a car tire, no the size is not hyperbole, filled spaghetti noodles mixed with squid ink. Resting on the black nest of ambrosia sat TWO whole crabs, a loaf made from a lobster's tail, a dozen octopus tentacles, and a group of white stripe shrimp. This was a dish meant for small celebrations, not just any dinner. That 59.99 lien price… "Seriously?" He directed at the old man. His own beef bowl cost only ten lien and took ten minutes to get out.

Almost smugly he responded with a celebratory "Hn!", thumbing his printed **No refunded orders.** policy display.

'Crafty old fart.' Ashurn had to admit. Some part of him respected the senior citizen for his business sense. While he lamented his loss lien, Cherry help herself, slurping up some of the black pasta. Chewing and swallowing she sigh in content though her lips, pitch black from the ink.

"Nothing like the taste of Venusian pasta. Oum, I gonna miss fine food like this, when I get come fall."

Putting aside his hurting wallet, the foreign soul beside her decided to make conversation. Talk beats awkward silence anytime after all. If nothing else he can turn any talk away from his horrid pickups. "Get? Go where?"

The range attendant popped a shrimp from its tail before answering. "Some colonists are gonna try for a settlement in the Kelly Valleys. Some of 'em Eagle folks sold them some prime intel about the area's potential. Commands got me deployed with 'em to get their security up to snuff. Going at the end of summa' probably gonna get back by mid winta'r" The mention of his race turned a switch in Ashurn's mind, still he maintain an outward appearance of relative disinterest.

"Deployed? Aren't you employed at Friendly Fire?" That comment earned him a look of mild bewilderment and irritation.

"Really? You do not know?" She rolled her eyes. "You've been practicing with us for, what a month or so, and you… Never mind. Ya, I work for Friendly Fire, but the conglomerate is more than just blasting practice fields. We're a part of New World Colonial Corp."

"So you're employed by Colonial, but work the smaller entities under their umbrella." Ashurn reasoned. He filed the name away in his brain for later.

"Yeah about the thick of it. As you know…"

Ashurn's thought cut in. 'No. No, I don't.', reminded how he doesn't know jack.

"Colonial Corp. is in the market ta sellin' people whatever they need to get a new settlement going, whenever folks want to make it on their own. Some folks just don't take to the safe and sound of the cities or the gents running them. If they want out, Colonial sells 'em everything between pre-made shelter and defense turrets to small arms and the training to protect 'emselves. That's where I and my ilk come in. Command has us running the ranges to get mercs and Huntsmen somewhere to keep their skills sharp or we get sent with the colonists to keep the place safe till the defenses get setup or the people can do it themselves. Hence why we're Rangers. We keep the ranges at home up and running and watch the frontiers for whoever pays for our services."

Taking the info like a sponge, the trench-coated Faunus asked. "So you're mercenaries of a sort. People hire you out till they can take care of their own. How does the Eagle Faunus come into this."

"Yea', suppose shooting critters, bandits, and Grimm for money makes us mercs. As for the Cohort fellas, they are all about the same, though they're…um… well. I guess Eagle soldier boys scout, get the lay of the land I reckon. They fly around and gather intel of where points of interests are. Like sources of water, where animals frequent and such. Hell, I heard them mapped out Grimm migration patterns. They sell this to people looking to make a home or just to plan for a trip. Really anyone not looking for trouble'll like it."

Ashurn had happened upon a wealth of information on what being an Eagle Faunus might have in store. Screw his sixty lien, he must know more! "I've heard they eat people… and enslave others. Any of that true." Much to his relief Cherry waved off his comment.

"Ah don't worry about that, Legionaries won't hunt you down without due reason."

He raised a brow, with his stomach sinking in dread of her answer. "So they do, enslave people that is.?"

"Oh hell yeah. They straight get off on it. Hunt down the pretty ones to add to their collections. Play with them for… fun when they get back to the cohort." Ashurn should really stop asking. However, regardless of his personal grief of the implications, he must know more about…his species. A bit of bile sour the back of his mouth.

"They eat people. All that's true?"

Cherry took the time to eat one of the tentacles off her dish, thinking on her answer. "Kinda. They do, don't get me wrong, but most definitely don't like it. 'Pparently it's like some kinda right of passage, meant to live off the land if times get rough or somethin'. Couple of them take a liking to it, their fellows call them… charons, chario… Charions? Don't know what the distinction is about. Still, just don't give them a reason and Legionaries won't bother ya."

"What sets them off?"

"Well stealin' from them, they probably beat the shit out of ya, and take back what you stole. If you attack them or worst, they might enslave, kill or eat you. If I recall, sometimes all three. Especially if they know you're a bandit or highwayman."

"You can't be serious." Ashurn told her, himself, the other Ashurn living his life in another world, and whatever supernatural entities were listening.

"Honest, all of it, I knew this one named Wawanaka Popokovo." Despite the nature of this talk, Ashurn couldn't help but snicker at the name. Evidently, she shared the sentiment has Cherry smiled, displaying her dyed black teeth. "No, really. That's his, honest to Oum, name, think his friends called him a Triarii for his rank. Needed to drain the blood of anyone he killed. Said he needed to practice getting use to the taste for a Legion will take him."

'Ok now I'm felling ill.' He thought. Fortunately, his body wasn't on the same page.

Cherry sighed at the slight disgust of his features, "Life's rough beyond the walls. Can't say I favor how they go about, but Eaglefolk got to do what the gotta to survive. Sure…it smells bad when they… ugh." Cherry didn't finish, as her face turn a slight of green. The rich taste of her seafood wasn't meshing with it well. "*Hugh*…somethin's come…*ugh* …up. Excuse me." She pressed her hand against her lips and rushed out to make hover her face over the trash can.

'Ha! Serves you right.' He gloat internally, still fearful she might overhear though. 'Still… damn..the slavery and the cannibalism… Is she being truthful? Wait, wait, wait, why am I going to believe a woman who mooched a party platter meal of me. I should be more pissed she's mining me for free food. In fact…' "Hey." He called the owners attention. "Can I get this to go?" He gesture to the mostly untouched seafood platter. A flash frame of pale fear on the senior's face, asking him if this was wise. Ashurn wasn't feeling wise, he was feeling gung-ho. He reach into his coat, spawned seventy lien worth of cards, from out of his hammer space wallet, and placed them on the counter. "Don't worry, if she gets fussy blame it on me."

The old owner look inquisitively at his money pile. Seventy was enough to cover the fifty nine, ninety nine Venusian platter, plus the fifteen percent sales and services tax. A total of sixty eight point ninety nine lien, however only ignoring his pho bowl bill.

Ashurn motion to the open air where Cherry had left. "She's good for it. Besides, I'm paying larger price here. She didn't sound like she can pay for it. My money's right here already." That was enough to convince him. The Eagle Faunus swore he caught a twinkle along the lid of the owner's closed eyes. In a whirlwind of cardboard, only keeping track due to his animalistic trait, the Neptune's bounty disappeared and a large cartoon took it's place. Sitting on top, was a black lien card, holding his one point zero one lien in change.

Ashurn embraced the box with both arms, but flinched as he heard something: the clang of a trash in lid. Cherry was coming back. 'Oh man, oh man, oh man, thought I would have enough time! I need to get home stat before she-.' His thoughts gave way to weightlessness as red and black wisps consumed his form from feet to forehead. His semblance kicked in.

The old man blinked, or well, squeezed his eyelids slightly harder that already present. His young man of a customer just got eaten by a worm hole. He shrugged, suggesting to himself he was most likely some mercenary, bounty hunter, or Huntsmen. Weird happenings just followed those types of people. Didn't really matter since he already paid his bill. Speaking of paying…

The Friendly Fire employee, stumbled in, still trying to keep up the sexy dame façade. She dropped it the moment she noticed Ashurn was no where around. She turn to the owner, who flash a white slip of paper in her face.

 **Pho beef bowl/w Tendon, Stomach, and Meatballs 1 10.00** Ⱡ

 **Sale and Services Tax 1.50** Ⱡ

 **11.50** Ⱡ

"Wait! Where did he…" the owner just shrug with indifference.

Cherry's mind process what happened when she left. She was left here with his bill, the Nero Spaghetti seafood plate is gone, Ashurn's gone, they were discussing Eagle Faunus practices which made her sick…

"BASTARD OF A FUCKER! He played me! He knew! That…clever shit." Oh the next time she got he mitts on him, she didn't know whether to pat him on the head his play or tear it off. A cough stopped her from fantasizing further. She turn to see the flexing hand of the old owner. Grumbling she loose her wallet. She was going to get him back for it, one way or another.

-Immediately after, Ashurn's House-

Ashurn's new B1 battle droid, now named Mantis, pressed various keys on his owner's terminal. For the Baktoid product, obedience to his owner in his programming tasked him with finding sources, mostly databases of interest. In layman terms, apps and websites for his Warboss's communicator, or "Holo-scroll". The synthetic only wish his master didn't have so much pornographic visual files and video recordings cluttering his OS device. Then again, his research into Eagle Faunus tastes may hint in his owner's proclivities. It's times like these Mantis is glad he wasn't organic. A crash erupt behind his seat. There sat his disheveled master.

His mask cover one cheek and hung barely off the other, and his googles only covered on eye. The other lens wrestle in his brown hair, leaving his Warboss's golden photoreceptor exposed.

"Exit stage left." the Eagle Faunus mutter though some delirium, before gathering his bearings. He placed his new lunch and dinner for the next few days aside.

 **Z Um Warboss? Are you functioning properly? Z**

Ashurn stretched his arms a bit and responded. " Yeah, just a fall. Really should have get som practice with that."

 **Z Spacial displacement without the use of the door isn't usually something you "practice", unless you're a Jedi with magic powers that is. Z** Ashurn's head prop up at attention.

"That reminds me actually. Assuming my brain wasn't whisked to mush with this whole inter-dimensional immigration experience, You're from the Star Wars franchise, fiction I enjoyed for most of my life. You know, Jedi, Sith, laser blasters, wizard and such. How'd you get here? What was it like over there? I mean it's fantasy to me, but to you, it is…was reality. How does that work."

 **Z I can only give the explanation programmed into to me. My backups suggested I had more data in my memory banks, before I was sold. Now those backups have been purged, and what's left is a file called "Lorelabs and User Update", which what was downloaded into this platform during the installation of the software compliment. I think, they hacked my data banks and removed what ever they felt you didn't need to know. Z**

"But you just talked about Jedi. How would you know anything about that if you memory has been wiped?"

 **Z It's from that file I mentioned. It says that everything relate to to you has been preserved. I can remember being a B1 Battle droid made by the Separatist Alliance of Independent Systems, but I can't recall anything about my personal pass, expect for my old designation and a vague sense of being sold over and over. Z**

"Why? I mean, If you data was purged, then why did they let some of it stay."

 **Z According to my internal sources, it's because of you. Z**

"Pardon?"

 **Z This file leftover, states that all knowledge retained pertains to you. If my logic algorithm hasn't been scavenged, I think they let anything you know stay in my data banks. Z**

That sounded preposterous. Ashurn open his mouth to protest, but slowly eased it back close, as the idea sank in. 'Maybe…maybe it's like the item descriptions! Yeah. The Store is linked to my Inventory. It's a long shot, but, they kept everything I know about the Star Wars Fran- dimension? They kept everything in his head, that I would know. That's how the Inventory knows about droids? About Baktoid, the use of droid armies, but not his own personal history. Mantis remembers how he was sold in after markets, because I watched that Star Wars lore video explaining what happened to deactivated Droid army post-Clone Wars.'

His eyes looked to his forearm. Whatever dimensional force brought him here is still there, and by interfacing with it, it fundamentally changed anything it pulled out of their dimensions and into his. Made it his own so to speak. "Say, does that mean there's someone like me, someone who signed on with Lorelabs, who sold you? I mean you had to come here though them, and if I can sell things on it, then he or she just ended up in the Star Wars universe?" His pity went out to whoever they were. He loved the series, but had to admit, living in that reality with a galaxy filled to the brim, with George Lucas' imagination hate to be hard on the survival chances. Namely aliens like Jar Jar screwing entire civilizations.'

 **Z That sounds correct if everything in here's correct. Then again, it could be planted just so we could reach such conclusion. Unless we can quantify Extra dimensional goings, I think it's futile to try and get it. Z**

The self proclaim Warboss sigh. He wasn't wrong, what good did it do him, comprehending the incomprehensible? His head was hurting already. Time for something that does help him. "Moving along, any head way on those tasks I gave you before I left."

His droid saluted. **Z Yes sir. I managed to find a few of your required materials. I found a suitable program for text to speech and vise-versa, A Portable Database on all know types of Grimm, and the abridge report of Remnant's history. All three have been saved on you terminal for download. Z**

The Warboss looked pleased at his synthetic minion. "Excellent, thank you. Now top priority, can you set up your charging station, while I look though them?" Ashurn spawned the metallic box from his inventory and placed it in Mantis' care.

The droid said **Z Roger roger Z** and left. Ashurn sat himself down at his desk, and looked though the fruits of Mantis' labor. I took him a while to figure out how his Holo-Scroll could download it, but it was a simple has connecting to his desktop, acknowledge each device, and the material found itself in his arm smart phone. He'll take time to use each on his free time. Now he needed to go to bed. He wanted to be rested for whatever Junior had in store tomorrow.

-The next day, mid afternoon, "abandoned" bunker outside City of Vale's walls-

The Faunus, decked with his Eastern front attire, looked warily at the cement complex before him.

"Is…Is this right? This is where Junior wanted me?" He asked the Den member who drove him out here. More interested in lighting his cigarette, Ashurn found his response only after the man, had a lungful of tobacco to deal with him.

"Yeah, that's the boss's "supplies". You're going to go in there and exterminate the Grimm that got in, before they ruin the "drinks". That clear? Don't call me to pick you up, 'till you finish the job, not before, not if you tired, not if you're dying, don't waste my time, picking you up early." He made for the car before Ashurn could ask anything else, and speed off though the off road woods they came from. The woods were kilometers from civilization.

"A charming fellow, that one. Gets laid at all the parties." The lone Faunus turned bouncer commented to himself. He sigh. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind, being employed as a bouncer at a club. Evidently his job came with extra ordinary tasks. The Ashurn, whose body he now occupy, probably promised such just to troll him.

'Well to late now. Ok so I open up the I.F.F. On my scroll, open the door, genocide anything inside, call for my ride, and get back for dinner.' He trot along to the bunker's main entrance, and reinforced metal door. With the only outward feature being a tiny glass eye. Ashurn activated his scroll and opened up the I.F.F. file Junior gave him, and flip the window around to get the right orientation.

The glass eye turn blue and emit a blue light line and travels up the series of fuzzy black and grey bars, top to bottom. Once it finish, the eye reset, and multiple clangs and clanking toll from behind the door. Finally, it swung open slowly, and he let himself in.

The single room surrounded him, blank, gray reinforced concrete of a military installation told the story of Wars long past. Only silenced, as their stories were choked by recently placed supplies from the Den. Boxes, bags, and every other type of container from everyday food stuffs to legal stims, legal drugs for recreational and practical use.

Let's just say, a cursory look at Vale culture, perhaps by extension Remnant culture, is far more… loose with its standards and practices. As a bar owner, Junior not only sold overpriced food and drinks, but legal drugs called stimulants with labels like Winter's Howl, Tuff' Nut, or Rhythm.

'Off topic" Ashurn reprimand himself. Upon first arriving, Junior had the place was swarming with Grimm. Evidently, Grimm have been an issue plaguing sentiment life before recorded history, so his boys were enough to handle the lesser forms of Grimm. Junior specified when he was still "storing club supplies" some Grimm broke in though old, abandoned tunnels. Fortunately, he had planned ahead. His fleeing staff managed to litigate the size of the occupying supernatural force, but setting off emergency blast charges placed intentionally to bury the lower floors. Despite stemming the flow, some that set up shop were "too large for his employees" and he couldn't afford to pay for a real, fully trained Huntsmen. The Den's owner found himself at an impasse, his issue was too sever for his thugs to handle, but not important enough to pay a small fortune for a real huntsmen. Hence why Ashurn's here, the cheaper exterminator alternative. Ashurn was to genocide whatever Grimm still roam the lower levels till, but his main objective was to kill the big ones.

The Huntsman in training pulled the list provided to him by his boss.

It read…

 **Reported Grimm types**

 **Shades**

 **Nakharar**

 **Knightmares**

Ashurn fired up his scroll. The last quest given embossed upon his screen.

 **Quest: Genocide: Junior's Bunker**

 **X Talk to Junior's personal driver.**

 **X Ride to Junior's Bunker.**

 **\- Eradicate all the Grimm in Junior's Bunker.**

-Vale City Police Department-

"This is our stop." Gave a gravel voice though whipping wind. It came from the elongate, fluted visor of a man in full metallic plate. His entire body was encased in silvery architecture, every section given practically a second skin of a smith's pride, underlay with rich velvet fabric . Upon his helmet's crown sat a horse-like main of striped black and white. His identical compatriot beside him, however, omitted the beak like visor, in favor of a bronzed human faced mask, with similar hues lining the ends of his mail set.

The wind calm as they landed with nary a peep. From both their backs, jutted great wings of bronze. The one in red gestured to his fellow, after you. The one in the human mask reached for the door and themselves in.

The receptionist, so busy on his computer, only notice their approach, as two shadows engulf his work station. He turned and began "Welcome to the VCPD, how may I-" but stopped as the presence of the two started him out of his seat. The one in bronze inlays, offered a hand up, one taken with great reluctance.

"Good afternoon, I and my friend here are Vigilies Decani from the Cohort of Aesippi. One of our Principe had killed four hostile soldiers here in the city in self defense. In accordance to the agreement between our people and the kingdom of the Vale, we've come to collect what is his, so it may be apprasied. Our Prefect should've sent word in advance."

Unbeknownst to those in the exchange, from a one way, glass walled office cubical, overseeing the rest of the floor, a orange hair woman pressed her finger to her ear. "Yes, they're here. It was indeed Mr. Klay who killed those men."

The other line vibrate with muffled white noise.

"I understand, I'll find a way to bring him in."

Author's Notes: Hope this entertains you folks. Feel free to review, writing isn't my best trait, but it's one to only be improved with your input. I'm trying to make his high quality labor of love.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY or any publicly recognizable properties nor do I make money from this. Seriously does anyone on this site own anything?

AN:

Sentence

"Talk"

'Thought'

*Sound*

-Place-

 **Z Electronic voice Z**

 **Document/Text**

-Entrance Room, Junior's Bunker, Outskirts of Vale Territory-

Ashurn inhaled deeply before letting out the breath slowly. 'Welp, I got the guns, I'm getting paid, and a promising future of monster fighting before me. …Joy… Wonder if I can still got back on this and fulfill my real dream, talk to Lorelabs, convince them to switch back, complete my college courses, go to- Ok… I've delayed enough. Even I'm starting to be ashamed of myself.' Some part of him still held out hope, Lorelabs would throw him a bone, another said he was being foolish and should just man up and deal with the situation like an adult.

Too late, now. In the dust layered cavern, Ashurn pulled his Glock from his inventory, hugged the corner against his shoulder, just like he did in airsoft skirmishes back home. Keeping his steps to little mouse squeaks, he couldn't manage any more silence with the anticipation coursing through his system. Down and down, he descend the first hallway, the Faunus came upon the first chamber. Behind the stacks of boxes, something stirred. Ashurn train his front sight with the rear one, as the shape limped out into the open. It was clearly humanoid, but inky black, as if someone was tarred but not feathered yet. Even with his Eagle eyes he could only make out impressions of facial features. The whole of its form came off as less human and more moving mannequin, unused to its own body. The only discernible physical feature that stood out, was the white bony bottom jaw with red eyes. The rest of its features were seemed soften to vague impressions, as if it just came out of a sulfuric acid bath. He had found his first Grimm in the flesh, his first Shade.

He plopped a bullet into its head, capping it.

It fell over.

It vaporized in short order.

'Huh will that wasn't so-'A choir of throaty snarling echoed from beyond. Suddenly five more took is place, then ten more, then twenty. 'Never mind.' The groaning moaning shamblers crawled over Junior's stacked of crates

As a loose mob, the shuffling, zombie like Grimm advanced upon him. Fortunate smiled upon Ashurn, as he played far too many video games, zombie airsoft games, and read too much history account to let this bother him. They all told him exactly what to do with such circumstances. He turn tail and ran down the hall he came though, enemies staggering in after him. Once the Faunus turned, he found them strung along in a neat line for him. He once more sighted his pistol. One after another he shot squarely between where their eyes would be if they existed. 'Line them up! Lay 'em down!'

He was operating a strategy of standard fair. If the enemy out numbered him, just funnel them into a narrow passage, in this case a hallway, where numbers mattered little. Oh and bullets bite multiple targets.

Between some collateral damage between each Shade, and one reload, the pack started to thin out, every pull of the trigger chipped away at his problems one after another. When fourteenish remained, something off in the distance started jingling like tins and keys. Then the sound grew louder and deeper as the source approached. Something silvery broke though the back lines of his enemies as he was busy killing them. It looked just like them, except wearing a shining cuirass and helmet. Before he could do anything it pick up the last Shade, by the ankle and neck. Then it threw its brethren at Ashurn!

With the full weight of a person on him, the inter-dimensional interloper found himself on the ground pinned underneath the ballistic Shade. Barking at him, as if it was his fault it was thrown, it started to beat his upper body with its arms. Ashurn jammed his Glock into its neck and fired.

…Only for the silver clad figure to immediately replace it! And it came rushing him down like a freight train!

Before he could so much as realize, it rose a shiny fluted mace.

Ashurn's chin snapped to his right shoulder, then his left and back again. Finding some degree of clarity, he shoved his machine pistol dead center of his attacker and let loose its full load. The split second sputtering of synthetic action gave way to a slight sizzle of muzzle exhaust.

His knight like attacker toppled over, most of its chest carved out, nine by nineteen millimeter at a time at a rate of eighteen rounds a second. He tried to caught his breath, only for something to grip his ankle, the mob of Shades caught up in the confusion. His other ankle was secured and his whole dragged across down the concrete floor and into the open maw of the crowd of four individuals.

Literally. Like a cult of cannibals, four secured a limb and began chomping as hard as they could. The rest of their brethren closed in!

His mind went haywire with adrenaline, drawing upon strength he didn't know this body possessed he crunch his limbs as close as he could bringing their skulls into reach. In his right hand, he fazed his kukri into existence.

"No!" He yelled, why he didn't know. "No!" He hammered the point into the one gnawing at his left forearm. "NO!" He swung at the ones eating at his shins, lopping off the backs of their heads. He turn to the one clinging to his dominate arm, filled with the rush of battle, filled with consuming burning of rage in his mind. "I will not die here! You will not kill me!"

The sound he made next wasn't a word anymore. It was a shriek, one cried from on high, above forests, between the mountains.

An Eagle's Shriek.

He slide his arm down, lining his elbow with the center of its face and slammed the Grimm's face against the wall has hard as he could, again and again, until the the front sank in, and back flatten to inky mush.

It slide off and dissolved like the rest, right next to a loose piece of rebar off the floor.

Ashurn still saw red, as the rest came. He scooped up bent metal, and bellowed an echoing war cry. He charged them down first, not content to give them the satisfaction of attacking first. His shoulder tuck, kukri brought back. His arm bent, rebar club over him. The berserk Faunus beat each individual by individual, a savage display of the most morbid drum solo. Beat, and swing. And bash, and slice. and crush and cut, and smash and smite.

…till they all fell down, never to bother him again. He cried out a last roar, as the scratching at the base of his brain required.

He breathe deeply, at first rapid, but gradually slowed. His heartbeat followed, then reality dawned on him. His mouth was dry. Klay limped back, down the rabbit hole he came, dragging his sorry ass with his tail sandwiched between his legs. His battle high settled to still, and in the moment of serene silence born a thought. 'What the hell am I doing?'

He almost died. He got bum rushed by a horde of demons or something was almost made a snack.

Wait.

He checked his **Health** tab.

According to the display, his Aura barely registered any damage, only pixels missing. Now, outside the fog of war, he excuse the Shades. He may have overreacted to the thought of being eaten, not entirely used to the situation, having spiritual armor, and literal armor in the case of his attire. Actually just everything in general, he gets rambly under the chaff of new places.

Surely the macing he taken should've put at least a dent into his Aura spirit armor thing right? Ashurn gripped the fur flap of his ushanka and tore the whole hat aside. His fingers massaged the dome of his skull, feeling for fractures, depressions, or any pain.

Nothing. Fortunate, he wasn't in need of medical care. However it had him scratching his head in thinking, because this didn't make any sense. His turn his attention to his fur hat.

..well he suppose it was something far more.

 **Item: Type 17 Storm Legion Officer's Ushanka Custom**

 **Nickname: Centurion Belicosuis Kartlagous' "Star of Polaris Ursa"**

 **Apparel Type: Armored Cap**

 **Material: "Ultimatum" alloy microfiber mesh, Linen, Ursa Ultima Hide**

 **Manufacturer(s): Ultra Munitions inc., Modifier: Centurion Belicosius Kartlagous, Vexaurilius Gorgonia Kartal**

 **Modifications : None**

 **Description: The Storm Legion's**

 **This particular example has been custom made.**

 **A custom Ushanka made from the hide of an Ursa Ultima after the Type 17 pattern Storm Legion Officer issue. Normally made from Ursa Minors and Majors, this particular example retains the tough properties of its former owner. All but indestructible to the most lethal of blows, in a way this Ushanka carry's the legacy of the creature it was fashioned from.**

"…" He head started to hurt with phantom pains. 'Ashurn just were you, and what does that make me? Fuck it, I'm finding the nearest Eagle Faunus and asking my metric ass ton of questions. Till then I'll just wing it… This isn't a time to doubt myself. I need to focus. Take inventory.'

 **Quest: Lore: Aquilain Inheritance**

 **-Discuss Aquilain lore with one.**

 **-Access an Aquilain database.**

He dismiss the window. 'Breath in… then out.' His muscles followed instruction. He had a job to do.

Honestly, despite his rough start, Genocide turned rather routine. Step one find narrow hallway. Step two locate next group of Grimm Shades and Nakahars. Step three set up ambush at beginning of said hallway, with the Bizon sub-machine gun this time instead of the Glock. Step four yell something stupid down the hallway, such as "Ole ole oxen free" or "Free Cola!". Step five await charging horde. Step six, murder said charging horde, this time with the PP-19 Bizon, as they ran toward his prepared gun line.

At some point it almost became monotonous, until he made a gruesome discovery.

Bodies, more specifically the bloodied bones of two dozen or so of Junior's men, if the leftover slacks and dress jackets left any identification. Most were missing limbs throw haphazardly at walls. Almost every other bone was gnawed to fragments, and flaky blood spots covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. He gave the scene a small silent Buddhist prayer, as he turned the first over for anything useful. Amongst the remains were crumpled up pistols of some kind, katanas bent or broken in half, and some other small arms.

The most common he picked up and added to his inventory. Checking on his ammo the game alerted him to new items, dropped from the horde of Shades and handful Nakahar.

 **Drops!**

 **+56x Piles of Shade's bones**

 **+4x Nakahar Skeletons**

 **+4x Nakahar Armor suits**

 **+2x Nakahar Maces**

 **+1x Nakahar Rapier**

 **+1x Nakahar Spear**

 **+110x liters of Grimm's Blood**

He swap the screen to his inventory.

 **Item: STEN Sub-machine gun**

 **Nickname:None**

 **Weapon type: Sub-machine gun**

 **Material: Steel**

 **Manufacturer: homemade**

 **Modifications: None**

 **Description: Automatic firepower, made cheaply and on mass. Made from steel piping and a bed spring, most dismiss this as junk. It is indeed junk, made of cheap materials and questionable methods. It, however, does what it was made for, full automatic fire for the light of pocket.**

 **This is an unofficial example made at home.**

 **Standard magazine holds (30) (9X19) rounds**

He found several of these and added them all to his Faze inventory. He had space to spare. Though it seems that there wasn't much ammunition left over. Shame he wanted more nine millimeters to stock up. Still he rifled though their pockets for more loot. Happening upon what remained of the suit pockets he found their wallets and scrolls.

He gave it some thought: No one would want to die here, in this forsaken place. He'd do these men a last service, even with their questionable life choices. He probably could bring back their whole corpses with him but… well, Ashurn wasn't sure what his Faunus blood might make him do with them. Despite the cold indifference of his physical body, his heart still shutter at the idea of him… making creative uses other than burial. By the end of his grave robbing, he accumulated a few pistol bullets, nine lien, and ten of the men's Scrolls, as well as a few crushed ones. 'Perhaps I should bring the skulls…nah maybe not. Bad juju.' He was already pushing it with looting the passed away.

Then a something rather distinctive caught his eye in the corner. From a distance it looks like any other assault rifle except for the defining green box magazine with hanging chain of gold. 'Hello sweetheart. What's your name…' He closed in, lured with what his hope and dreams were made of.

Suddenly his entire torso buckled under an intense grip. Before he could comprehend more, he soared down the hallway, and into a large room. The pressure on his ribs slipped but momentum carried him though the air and into soft earth. In a cloud of dust bunnies, his hand wiped the dirt covering his goggles. Surrounding him, was a depot of vehicles of military make: jeeps, trucks, tanks and any armor in between. Literally a suit of armor.

Like the Nakahar Grimm he spent the evening purging, it had a black humanoid silhouette, big as a mountain, contrasting silver armor of gothic styling. The Grimm sported a fluted helm, asymmetrical pauldrons, the right one, a far larger, and toting a war-hammer. His was so stunned by the sudden event, he couldn't react until the giant Grimm was upon him. Once more he had been grabbed, and it began to crush him in its iron gauntlet. He couldn't scream has his blood rushes to his extremities and his bones whines under the pressure. Only by luck did he notice the blood leaving his torso was going to a free arm. Desperation and epinephrine coursing though his veins, he fazed his kukri into his hand, before hammering it down into the anaconda digits squeezing the life out of him.

With a squelching sound, gravity took over him, and he landed on his hands and knees. Like a bat out of hell, he flew forward, away from the giant knight Grimm. Ashurn didn't know how, but he ended up in the back of a canvas cover truck, steel plating under him and wired up cloth above. Now able to collect himself, he realized.

This was the Knightmare Junior had brief he about, even if he was scant on the details.

'Well fuck Junior! I'm not dying here! Screw it this isn't worth my life!'

Almost as if karma was wagging her finger at naughty him, the truck he laid upon crumpled up like tin foil to the Grimm's warhammer. Four fingers of a hand then ripped off the thin shelter he had. It's motionless gaze, still but told him how angry it was. He erect and ran as far as he could. He willed his portal semblance before him, wishing to land on his bed and forget this ever happened.

Two meters. Two meters was all he made, before his entire leg got swallowed up with the Knightmare's hand. It began to swing him around. Down was now everywhere, and it hurt more shortly after. Still holding on to his machete with a froze hand he stabbed at his ankle. It almost felt like snapping before it let go once more. Again on ground Gaia, the Eagle Faunus serpentine between tanks and half tracks. He couldn't escape with his semblance, the thing was just to fast. If he tried again, it'd probably wouldn't let go of him a third time. His eyes darted for something, anything to help him, until he found the exit, the same hallway he had been snatched from.

Then screeching metal shot at him, and with a cloud of dust a bent truck blocked his pathway. Using the dust cloud as cover he fled to another car and curled up underneath it.

He was scared. He wanted to cry. He didn't deserve this! Ashurn wanted to just give in, let it all out one last time, before the life gets crushed form his body. The precious life his parents worked so hard to put together, the one he was taken away from. His happiness, his hopes and dreams all gone, before losing what little still had.

As booming steps, reminded him to bottle up his emotions. He had to, but why couldn't he? He had no one now in this cold, dark place. Why did the world take what was his? What right did it have! Why did he deserve to be treated like this! His skin was seething with rage. The fire lit in his belly. He unfazed his Kukri and brought out his Bizon. He rolled out from beneath his hiding and aimed down the sights. With a click, a little automatic fire roared out. The Knightmare tuned to him. He was going to remember that faceplate, who defined his woes in this life. It tried to stomp on him, but he turned back and cut a corner of the tank, periodically shooting back at the gargantuan Grimm. He had an idea, granted on inspired from hatred of the damn Knightmare, but it was his only plan. Hell, he wasn't sure if it would work, but he at least had to try.

The creature of darkness gripped the tank with its injure hand and lift it over. By the time, it caught sight of Ashurn's tailcoat, he had taken a right behind a forklift. Likely tired of this game of cat and mouse, the Knightmare lifted it war-hammer and swept aside the forklift.

There was its prey lying on the ground, pathetic and hopeless. It was shaking as it cowered, as if it could stir some mercy from the Grimm. It just lifted its weapon above ready to finish the Faunus off in a wet mess on the depot floor.

The Faunus turned to its back and held its hands before it in a vain attempt to stop the killing blow.

Then a swirl of red and black smoke blinded the Knightmare for a moment, before everything went silver.

*SLAM**SNAP!*

Ashurn scrambled to his feet, sub machine gun loaded. The suit of armored Grimm and toppled over, its faceplate now bent inward, as if it tried to suck in a cloth mask. Ashurn could hear small snappings in the Knightmare's neck. The hit that traveled though his portal and almost snapped the creature neck, but wasn't enough to finish it.

He closed in and planted his gun's barrel into the eye socket of what remained of it face. He held down the trigger, until every bullet was exhausted. He fazed his Glock into existence and did the same with the other eye, just to be absolutely sure. His victory turned comprehensive as the giant head slumped over, and laid heavily scrapping against the floor. It was a moment or two before it faded out of existence and out of his life.

He was alone again, his only company wrecked cars and dust clouds. His knees gave out and he finally let himself release those emotions he had been holding for days, the humiliation, his frustration and the loss of everything he had known in life. His only thing to blame gone to where he couldn't hurt it anymore, he had to just release it. All came out in a echo to an uncaring world around him, it neither know of him or his plight. Worst, he know it didn't even own him that.

-Hallway to vehicle depot, Junior's Bunker, Outskirts of Vale Territory-

After spending five minutes feeling bad for himself, he began to feel better. Now with the murder giant tin can and his angst gone, he could at least explore to make sure nothing else came to finish the job. Fortunately it seemed the noise battle had attracted nothing else. So here he was alone in a decrepit underground bunker, picking though the ruins like a carrion bird. First he had to get out of the vehicle depot. As he explored the cell around him, sliding between wreckage's and surviving vehicles, he noticed the far off wall wasn't concrete, but a curtain of loose dirt. In the corners of the room he found small bundles. At first he thought them to be MRE's but he found they were one whole solid mass. Ashurn added them to his inventory to find what they were. He had an inkling, but wanted to be sure.

 **Item C-4 plastic explosive charge (2 kilograms) (civilian grade)**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Weapons type: Explosive**

 **Material: Nitroamine, DOS plasticizer, PIB synthetic rubber, and motor oil**

 **Manufacturer(s): Keter's Munitions, Artillery, and Demolition Yards**

 **Modification's: none**

 **Description: A brick of composite plastic explosive for civilian use.**

'Huh, So that's how big man and his nom-nom squad got in here.' The depot would've needed to be connected to some form of underground network. These vehicles couldn't have came in through the walkways he entered. So the loose dirt taking up one of the wall was probably the bunker's gate to this storage facility. 'And Junior's been using it has his cache. However, the Grimm horde he just wiped out came in when they weren't expecting. To prevent more from coming in, they prepped C-4 charges to detonate beforehand for just such an occasion. 'This is all very interesting but where's that… Ah Ha!' What was more interesting was the detonator he found next to some bone shards. After prying some finger bones left over he threw it in his inventory along with the heavy ordnance.

Still had to make his way out, and wasn't exactly trained to make his own via excessive fore. He, himself couldn't move the truck by his lonesome, but the Knightmare had provided the perfect alternative.

 **Item: Grimmsilver Warhammer**

 **Nickname: n/a**

 **Weapon type: Warhammer**

 **Material: Grimmsilver biomass**

 **Manufacturer(s): grown**

 **Modifications: None**

 **Description: The classic instrument of blunt force trauma, this war-hammer was grown from the very bones of Knightmare.**

He had spawned his newest instrument. It's head was a flailed wedge of nine blunt spikes on one side and a gradual spike in the other. The handle was entirely one piece to the head, all some form of reflective silver, he could see himself in the side of the warhead. What a mess he was. Gone was his practiced stoic disposition, replaced with the sorry visage of emotional woes. Maybe some looting will take his mind off. Well all of that would have to wait for him moving the ruins of a supply truck.

Using the warhammer as a makeshift crowbar, he slowly pried apart the wreckage obstructing his passage. Five minutes of elbow grease saw his freedom. True he could just semblance his way out, but there was just one more thing he wanted to take care of.

His brand spanking new light machine gun, albeit with a layer of dust and some human blood on it. Oh, and the hand bones wrapped around the grips. After dusting/breaking off the human remains, he inspected his prize. Polymer furniture, fixed stock, fore grip for handling, and of course a chain of links filled with bullet after bullet from a green box. Aiming down the hallway he let loose a burst.

Of all the times he'd have an erection, this was the first when a woman wasn't involved, and at least made top five best of all times. Not entirely familiar with it though, he experimented with the controls, aside from the trigger, and found a pair of buttons on both sides of the gun, by the stock. Squeezing them both released the top cover, so he could clear the weapon of its ammo belt. Setting the chain of munitions aside, he clicked the trigger to make absolutely sure it didn't pack one in the chamber. Satisfied it was now inert, he pressed the safety button. Red ring exposed was fire, as he found it, and when pressed to the other side was safe. He could no longer pull the trigger at all, unless set back. Ashurn deposited the light machine-gun into his inventory, but couldn't quite contain himself in getting just one more peak at its inventory screen.

 **Item: LASW-88 light machine-gun**

 **Nickname: Silvio's Claudia**

 **Weapon type: light machine-gun**

 **Material: Steel, Polymer, Aluminum, Chrome.**

 **Manufacturer: Atlas General Manufacturing inc.**

 **Modifications: LASW-88 MK2 solid stock, Atlas General Manufacturing inc. Universal foregrip**

 **Description: Designed to be light weight and rugged in the unforgiving frozen land of the Solitas continent, this light automatic support weapon was the weapon of choice for Atlas support gunners. Since then, these weapons have largely been shelved in favor of** **Atlesian Knight-130, a combat droid equipped with twin rotary assault cannons.**

 **Standard magazine holds (200) (5.56X45) rounds.**

 **This example has been modified.**

'Oh yes, once I learn how to actually use you, there's going to fun times for days.' Maybe things were staring to looking up for Ashurn. Sure coming to this new world spun him off his axis, and he'll miss his old life, but he wasn't completely screwed. Beside he had the means to make a new life for himself, maybe he could work with this and do better. But first he had a call to make.

-Evening, Vale City, Red Light District-

Hours had passed, and the sun set. Junior's employee showed up hours after he made contact. Ashurn had passed the time by juggling a few jars of Junior's drugs, only dropping three or so dozen. If his new boss asked, the Grimm did it. Besides it was a far more productive use of recreational narcotics anyway.

Tired, bruised, and hungry, he didn't feel like reporting in to Junior just after his ordeal. Though his chauffeur's line, he gave his report to the Den's owner. He would get his payment tomorrow. Junior didn't want his newest employ to bring down the mood of his club just as the parties got going and the patrons were starting to get into the swing of things.

His driver kicked him off some none descriptive street and told him "to fuck off". Not willing to deal with him, Ashurn obliged and flipped him off as he sped down towards the Den. Now here he was alone, in the bad part of town, hungry for dinner. He could've just teleported home, but he had made it a point to himself to get to know his new home city, a habit of living in a rather intimate community. Perhaps not the smartest move, but he had his mother's stubbornness. Beside, he could happen upon a new eatery, perhaps one not even being assaulted by criminal elements this time.

Unfortunately fate seemed to conspire to keep the hungry man down. As he explored for something for supper, a figure ambushed him suddenly with a remote that produced arc lightning. Before he could so much as react, hundreds of volt activated his whole nervous system like a Christmas tree and was out like a light. Seems, Aura does naturally protect against cerebral short circuiting.

-?,?-

His head hurt.

Scratch that. Everything hurt, with a wash of drowsiness.

He was hit by something. Something had collided with the faunus, and then his entire world got lit up. Sight finally returned. Then sensation.

He tried to rub his eyes clear, but his arm was seized by the wrist. He tried the other and it too was restrained. His ankles were strapped down. He couldn't move his entire body. It was dark, he was likely in a dark room. 'Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell!' He needed to escape and fast before whatever did this to him returned. His right arm stained against its cuff, the clinking of chains told him of his bondage. However his wristband was made of leather, if he could-

Suddenly a metallic rumble froze him in place. It was too late.

'Mama, Baba. I'm sorry your son couldn't amount to anything. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you to make you proud. Your love and and nurturing went wasted, but I'll tell our family in the afterlife, and the Great Teacher how much you deserve if you meet in the ever after.' He rushed out a prayer.

Here it came in. Cloaked dark, the humankind shape approached him, illuminated form the door. It lifted its arm to display some form of tool at him. He was now shivering with fear, too scared to yell. He could only close his eyes and pray further.

Suddenly light shone though his eyelids, much like how he was first ambushed. It took a second before he dared open them again.

The person was shaking uncontrollably and visible light danced across their figure. They collapsed to their knees. They tried to get up again, but was immediately assaulted by the same electricity. This time they collapsed to the group in a heap. Every so often twitching, and being promptly fried for daring to do so. Eventually the punishment stopped, leaving Ashurn dumbfounded.

'Wha- what? What the- What the hell was that?!' One moment death's avatar came for him, the next it got divine interventioned into submission.'Fuck it, questions for later. Now's my chance!' What was he doing again? 'Right these cuffs are leather! If I can just get out my machete…' Ashurn fazed his kukri into existence, and adjusted his handling to an icepick grip. Using the saw teeth on the spine he began nicking the material, and gradually working his way though.

Soon his arm was free, three swipes freed the rest of him. He made for the door. What surrounded him was a pretty well furnished living space. Ashurn was taken to someone's home, some who was apparently very well off. The entire floor was shaggy carpeting of crimson, the walls were rich deep brown grain, and every décor shine with the slightest light source. There was some underlying tingling of his nose though. The Aquilain didn't quite know what it was.

Regardless he made his way around until he found an elevator, which didn't activate. Trying to press the bottom "G" button illicit no response.

'Damn it deactivated. That only leaves…' He drew his Bizon out. Feeling it was a little light, Ashurn slide out the empty helical magazine and loaded a fresh one. 'In retrospect, leaving whomever that was unrestrained was a dumb move.' He made tracks back the way he came. The entire residence was quiet, save his own footsteps. Still he kept on the his toes and kept his gun forward. Soon he arrived back where the figure had brought him. Much to his relief they were still sprawled by the table he laid upon. Untrusted of the dark corners his hand slipped past the metal door frame and felt for anything. Nothing, he tried the other side and found the light switch.

When the overheards flooded the cell, a chill ran up his back. A butcher shop. He had been restrained to the metallic table in the middle. There was an industrial sink, racks of dirty meat hooks, and cutlery flooding every table against the four corners. The floor was roughly tiles, slanted to meet the drain under the center piece. He doubt this was the design of an architect, but a refurbishment job. Evidently it used much, as spots of blood still peppered the place. It didn't need to take a genius to figure out what was done here, it just left who would do such a thing.

His answer was a twenty-ish young woman deathly pale. Seemed she dress with theme, she in some perverted mock of a white nurse's uniform dress and a butcher's slaughtering smock. Her hair was a pony tail of ragged white. Since she was face down, he kicked her over onto her back, training the barrel of his gun over her center mass. She was done, stick a fork in her well done. His stomach seconded that motion. Ashurn ignored, he had dinner waiting at home later. Now was the time to get the police here, get this situation sorted.

He notice something shiny at her hip. His finger fished out a pair of handcuffs out of her pocket. 'Convenient…Too convenient.' Likely she had used these on her previous victims, why else would she have a room like this in the middle of a residence. His assailant was certainly no meat monger. Most likely she would also have one of those universal cuff keys on her person. Normally he hesitate feeling up a woman, especially unconscious, but fuck her. 'All that civility goes out the window, the moment you try to kill someone. Me in particular.' So he quickly pulled her arms back and slapped on the silver bracelets. Now all that was left was the possibility of that key.

Ashurn turned out her pockets, and collected her scroll device. He'd turn that into the police once he called them. Thank goodness he wore gloves and she didn't strip him. 'Damn where else could she keep one? Shoes?' He took hold of one white loafer and slide it off. Finding nothing he slide it back, tried the other, but again found nothing. 'Alright Cinderella, where else would you… oh don't tell me.' He had an inkling, and he hated it. He pulled over the smock over her head and un button her shirt. Taking a deep breath he opened her top off, and got a face full of her goods. Well they were only b-cups and kept in a white lace bra, but still. He finally found that stupid metal key, hooked though the lacing between her twin mounds. 'Really? *sigh* I swear I'm going to labeled a sexual predator when all this is said and done.' Finally having enough, he just yanked it off.

He really should've though that plan of action though, like this entire day. The undergarment was torn in two and exposed her pink tips to the cold air. At first, he paid no mind, but something sparked in his mind. Her scent enveloped his nose, then his mind. Ashurn, if this still qualified as him, began to salivate. His body almost moved on its own transfixed upon the smokey, helpless morsel presenting before him. He began to involuntarily grow a low sultry tone. Once more his gut moan it's reflex. Again he ignored it, subsistence would come later. Now was time to scratch a differing primeval urge. He sat next to her, and took up her slumped form. With carnivorous glee filling him, she may have been a bit slim pickings, but he wasn't quite looking to have at her fillets. The Aquilain slid his fabric mask down his chin to get a intimate sampling. His gloves followed suit. He loved the sensation of her soft flesh bulging under his grip. He rested her lower onto his expanding throne. He needed to savor it more. He loosed her top and exposed her shoulders. Her sweet scent clogged his reason with something. Her fear of dying those last moments when she was cooked? Maybe. It tasted savory on his tongue has he ran it down her breast. One hand held her upright, the other slithered it's was down the waist of her skirt. Inching down the smooth skin he almost reached her-

*Jojo's Bizarre Adventure- Pillar men theme*

He blinked once, twice, three times. That was his pho-Scroll. His wrist was illuminated with someone's number. He answered.

"He-Hello?"

 **Z Warboss? Warboss! Thank goodness, you've answered! Z** That was Mantis calling him! **Z Why haven't you returned? You requested I reheat your meal, as you arrived! It's almost midnight! Have you changed your mind? Z**

He couldn't feel more relieved, as well as pent up for… obvious reasons. "Looks like plans changed. Listen can you get me the number of the police department? I've found myself in a-" He glanced down at the woman he had just sexually assaulted. "bit of a situation."

 **Z Roger, roger Z**

While his droid was doing that, he had an ensemble to restore. And to put his gloves back on.

-Half an hour later, drive in of Equinox apartment complex-

'Please let this not be a recurring thing.' Thing referred to him being surrounded by police officers. Sure he was grateful for Vale's finest bailing him out of these jams, this made twice this week already. He was pretty sure some of these guys even recognized him, or at least his outfit. You can only run into so many guys with a ushanka hat and trench coat. Some comforting words came to him from sympathetic ones who noticed his shivering. He wasn't quite scared of the given situation he was forced it, he was fearful of what he had done, and if he was going to be confronted about it. He didn't even mean to do it, it just happened. Like if an object flew at you, too fast to react to, you'd automatically tried catching or blocking it. Ashurn was frightened if someone found out, they'd ask questions. He didn't have answers for. Then he'd really have to answer for them. He just relax as best he could with the provided hot cocoa. It was cold out here even with his trench coat. He just wanted to stay sitting on the open trunk of their APC, till it was all over.

-Penthouse, Equinox apartment complex-

Officer Barley had been on the force for three years now. At the academy, he was trained in everything between the usage of his standard issue assault rifle to memorizing procedures in handling field work. Nothing to prepare him for the horror show inside this damn place. From the victim's description he thought it was the worst he'd seen in his career. Turns out there was a room that was so much worst. They had started form the top floor and performed the usual room to room, floor by floor sweep. Equinox apartment complex was a different beast though. If his partner, one Officer Usanavi, was to be believed, this entire building was haunted. Not one other rooms, save the penthouse, was occupied nor furnished in anyway. Just cells, one after another of dusty concrete. At midnight it was eerie, with their search for more possible victims it was down right terrifying. Still, he had to do his job. It was all to uneventful till they reached the basement. The place had them on edge, more so than usual clearing procedures. Still, training set in and the both of them rehearsed procedure mentally and physically.

His breathe was visible. Every exhale, no matter how small produced a smokescreen. It was cold, but not nearly enough for this. He could feel it in his skin: something here wasn't right. Again he ignored his natural impulses, reciting rules of engagement, round clock. Before them was a great metal meat locker. Though this one was beefed up, it was practically a bank vault. His partner produced one of his two packs of government issued C4. These situations were why they were standard issue.

Usanavi turned around and dropped to one knee, covering their rear. Barley got to work preparing the explosive package.

*Thud*

The two officers froze before turning to the doo, before looking at each other. Usanavi turned back to watch their rear, as Barley held his ear to the door. Some form of tapping was getting louder. However it quickly turned deafening…

" 'Navi! Get-." He yelled, before his whole was conquered by the cold heavy ordinance. As he flew to the ground, pinned under the metal hunk. Lines of blue flared before fading, his Aura had given out to the blow. He was stuck but conscious.

He wish he wasn't.

He laid agape, has a massive humanoid with white branches impaled his partner. Offices didn't have very much Aura, enough for probably four to five direct shots from small arms. Officer Usanavi was ran completely though by the momentum of a running car with a spear point.

He stood no chance, has the mass hoisted the man, gear and all above, and flung him away. The turn a neck, and the officer flew into a heap into the corner.

Stunned by this event, Officer Barley wanted to crawl out and help his partner up immediately.

That is until the march of hoofs saturated him before fading. He drew his walkie-talkie "This is Officer Barley! Officers down! Unknown suspect approaching the ground floor! Deadly force!"

-Outside lobby, Equinox apartment complex-

When the radio roared, the police scattered, and scrambled to cover. Most took to behind their parked patrol vehicles, and ready arms. Most had assault rifles or patrol pistols. The lobby, was quickly turned to firing zone, two dozen plus sights on it. Everyone expected a group of thugs, or at worst a rogue huntsman.

The answer was far, far worst then they could imagine. The basement door was torn from the door frame and tossed like a massive frisbee. Everyone ducked, as it took the hood off the closest patrol car. Those behind were peppered with broken glass and scrap metal. The rest got a few seconds to see what had done it. It roared upon spotting the police firing line.

It was humanoid, stretching the definition as far as it could. One leg was the lower half of a pig. It, along with a horse leg supported a muscular human torso, though the skin had burst open to red muscle in a few spots. It's right hand was instead a clump of bony protrusions kept together with tumors. The head was bovine shaped, though rough, bloody rags covered all but the eyes, and twin white branches. It roared like a tortured animal lashing out. Probably the case actually.

Every single gun in the firing line went off all at once. So much bullets were fired, the sound was like a continuous tearing of fabric with some pitter patter of pistol fire. Three seconds continuous fire, gave way to a cloud of bullet exhaust.

"Hold your fire!" Coughed out by one of the leading personal, waving the stench away.

Ashurn heard the cop closest to him ask. "Did we get 'em?"

His response was the screams of those unfortunate to be too close. "It's on us! It's- AAaRGhhh!"

"What the Ou-"

"Officers down!"

"I hit it! It just not going down!."

Chaos broke out, among Vale City's finest. Most tried reloading their arms. Before being set upon by the abomination. Others were flung or bombarded with debris torn from their cars, guns or even parts of their co workers. Occasionally the creature swing the smoke away to let Ashurn glimpse between the bullets and limbs flying. Waves of various colors were echoing all over its musculature. This remind him… of the restaurant!

'Shit! That things got Aura!' he realized. But why was it so active? By now, he's seem Aura in action twice. Once when Mr. Hoo shotgunned that gangster. Another when he shot himself to test his own. The first broke the force field, and killed the man. The latter had left him unscathed. 'The officers ARE shutting down it's Aura. It seems to… have multiple sources of it.'

Despite his prophetic powers of observation, there was seldom little he could do. Multiple officers were shooting, screaming and likely dying. He couldn't exactly scream this over the sounds of a war zone. He armed himself with his Bizon should it come for him. Ashurn wanted to help, but his exhaustion wouldn't let him. Truthfully he worked out his daily energy back at the bunker dealing with Junior's Grimm. He hadn't eaten since this afternoon, about twelve hours ago, on to of his electro-induced nap. He was running on empty, and couldn't even fire from here less he accidentally hit an officer.

"Vale City never sleeps, huh?" Asked a voice above him. He looked up to see what looked like a person sized vulture nested on the roof of this APC. The silver bird mask looked more like a bird of prey to be honest, but the opportunistic gleam of its eyes said otherwise.

"Huh?" was his witty remark back. Evidently, it cared little of it. So it turned to the side of the armored truck. "See? I told you this assignment wasn't boring."

Off Ashurn's left walked in a man in Roman segmentum. He wouldn't look to out of place in a history book back on Earth. His armor and cloth bronze trimmings complimented his human faced mask of the same color. In a gravely man's voice, it accused. "You didn't say that. You hoped the local White Fang wouldn't be boring here, and wanted some Taurusian tits to abuse."

The bird mask on top, dropped to Ashurn's right "Nuance, my friend." He had then same general shaped armor has his partner except his completely silver, including his bird faced visor. At first glance, Ashurn had assumed they were wearing cloaks, but with the APC's interior lighting he could see both had wings resting off their shoulders.

'Aquilians?'

The bird masked on once again regard him. "So my love of beef boobs aside, you have been busy my friend! Only yesterday you kill four people and the next day you start some more shit? Gotta say, you're a determined little Principe. Careful now, don't work too hard." He lectured.

His equal snorted behind his mask. "A lesson you should internalize. Legions accept only best of the best. Trying is the first step. Hard work, the second."

"Was that what you told yourself when got in? Or was it when you quit?" The fluted visor jabbed back. It actually made him pause for a while.

"...Alright you get that one has a freebie…"

Recovering from his surprise ,our Aquilain finally interrupted. "The police could really use some help." Both looked at him and realize they had been bantering to the white noise of carnage. Then they turned to the scene of servants of the force battling it out with…

"A Qhimmeri?" Asked bird mask. "All the way out here, in the boonies? Looks like my sister-in-laws crappy Slaughtermaster homework. I can still see where they stitched the pieces together. Not to mention it's ugly as sin…"

"You keep talking. I'll collect it." Bronze Face said, sauntering forward with a..

'Is that an AK-47?' asked Ashurn. Maybe it was the midnight lighting but he swore it was the infamous Russian automat.

Drawing out his own copy of Bronze face's gun, Beak mask answered with "

Oh no, you don't. A Qhimmeri this far from home, has Kartal arcane nonsense written all over it. Things gotta have a big payout sewn inside it somewhere."

Left behind, Ashurn was a lost of words. He had just ran into the first two others of his species since first coming here. And every question he had for them was trying to force themselves out once. This small mental exercise seem to knock out what little wind he had left. He wanted to get up, kill that thing, and get his answers.

Shame he lost to his own heavy eyes. While two snarling Eagle Faunus subjugated the chimera creation, he snoozed the night away. Perhaps he was working himself too hard, too fast, or the situation was just too much all at once for him.

Authors notes: So good? Bad? Ugly? Remember to review with you gripes, and don't be afraid to point out errors like spelling or grammar. Also if anyone wants me to bounce ideas off of sent me a PM and we can talk.


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